


limitation/capability

by speakingincode



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, and no kurotsuki hate, but no infidelity, endgame tsukkiyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 55,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingincode/pseuds/speakingincode
Summary: When Yamaguchi accidentally sees Kuroo making out with Tsukishima against the walls of a gymnasium, it's at a group training camp with Nekoma, which makes sense. When they get back, Tsukishima's phone is suddenly blowing up and he hasn't mentioned Kuroo to Yamaguchi once. That makes sense, too....That makes sense, but Yamaguchi is starting to wonder if he and Tsukishima were ever friends at all.





	1. pathetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i wrote this because i have this weird obscure problem where seeing kurotsuki content upsets me to the point where i need to consume tsukkiyama content to recover, and I decided this fic was my weird obscure solution. tsukiyama is endgame so like.... don't worry my dude. also, this fic takes place in-between moonrise and the spring tournament in season two
> 
> rules i set for myself:  
> 1\. kurotsuki is not abusive, unhealthy, or purely physical.  
> 2\. yamaguchi does not actively pursue someone in a relationship.  
> 3\. yamaguchi does not enter a romantic relationship or make tsukishima think he's entered a romantic relationship. (keep this in mind because yamaguchi spends a lot of time with yachi, but neither of them have feelings and no one thinks they do)  
> 4\. no demonizing kuroo. he's a good kid
> 
> enjoy the fic! it ended up being a little personal, so i hope you like it.

On the last night of training camp with Nekoma and Fukurodani, Tadashi accidentally sees his best friend making out with the captain of their rival school.

He's standing just outside the door of the near-empty gym, frozen, just for a second - until every inch of him realizes just how _bad_ it would be to get caught right then and his feet start focusing on putting as much distance between him and Tsukishima ( _and Kuroo_?) as possible.

He's having trouble thinking rationally. There's a swirling ice-cold _wrong_ inside of him that he feels but also... doesn't feel. It's a little unsettling, but this kind of thing is probably normal because you're not really supposed to ever see your best friend like that ( _hair messy, glasses crooked, cheeks red_ ). Still... it's hard to think of the numbness spreading through his body as _normal_. It's like he's stumbled into an alternate universe, where cars fly, there are unicorns on the way to school, and Hinata's too tired to play volleyball (and his best friend kisses someone he didn't even know he was that close with).

The thoughts stir up the inside of his head for a while. At some point through the haze, he eventually realizes he's walked all the way back to the cafeteria. Even though he didn't mean to come here, it's... probably the best place for him to be right now. If he listens to himself thinking any longer, he doesn't know what'll happen. At least the team can help him keep his mind off of it.

When Tadashi opens the cafeteria doors, he immediately hears, "Oi, Yamaguchi-kun!" and he sees Hinata waving at him from the Karasuno table, yelling just loud enough for him to hear over the room's constant chatter. He takes the seat next to Hinata, where the tray he'd left earlier is still waiting in front of him, and Hinata asks, "Where's Tsukishima? Did you find him?"

Ah... that's right. After he'd seen Bokuto and Akaashi come back for dinner, he went looking for Tsukishima, since he'd spent all of free practice with them and Kuroo. Looking back on it, that probably hadn't been a good idea. He's known a long time Tsukishima isn't the kind of person who needs to be found. If Tsukishima wants to spend time with him, he'll be where he is. If Tsukishima's somewhere else, it's because that's where he'd rather be. Tadashi's known Tsukishima too long to mind something like that; he's used to leaving him alone when he doesn't want to be found.

He's not used to this, though, he guesses.

"Yamaguchi-kun!" Hinata calls next to him, frantically waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

He snaps out of his thoughts just as Kageyama tugs Hinata's sleeve and scolds him, "Stop being so loud, dumbass." Hinata turns to look at Kageyama, probably about to start an argument, but Tadashi cuts him off.

"I'm okay. I just couldn't find him, and I got... hungry...?" The lie is shakier than he wants it to sound, but Hinata swallows it easy, nodding like he understands just how Tadashi feels. When Tadashi doesn't say anything else, Hinata turns back to Kageyama, and Tadashi breathes a sigh of relief. Even if he's grateful for all the yelling around him, he can't really talk right now. For a while, he just listens to Tanaka and Nishinoya make fun of each other while he eats his dinner, which tastes a little bit like nothing. He's almost tuned himself out completely when he sees Tsukishima walk into the cafeteria and everything he's been listening to is put on mute. 

Tsukishima is just like he always is; clothes and glasses straight, expression emotionless, cool and quiet. So it doesn't make sense that his presence is so _loud_ to Tadashi, that for some reason he's the only thing he can see and it's enough to make him stop cold. It's not even like Tsukishima's with Kuroo, and by the way he's acting now, whatever Tsukishima he saw with Kuroo in that empty gym - he's totally gone. That Tsukishima, he... shouldn't still be affecting him. He _shouldn't_. Tadashi takes a breath and closes and opens his eyes. Yeah! Whatever he saw earlier doesn't matter anymore, Tsukki is here and he's normal and-

"Ah, I-I think I'll head back to the gym," he hears himself say, and before he and Tsukishima can even make eye contact, he makes sure he's gone. 

* * *

Tadashi gets back late. Hinata and Kageyama came to the gym a little after him and he ended up throwing to Kageyama while he and Hinata practiced their quick. Tadashi didn't mind; jump floats stopped working for him awhile ago, and he knows he wouldn't have been able to sleep if he tried to. The team's two loudmouths were probably the best thing for his overactive mind, too, so he didn't protest when they kept him throwing over and over, no end in sight. He probably would've gone all night if Ukai-sensei hadn't found them and started threatening to take away breakfast. 

He kept busy in an attempt to avoid Tsukishima, but it hasn't really worked out; when he gets back, the only place left to lay out a futon is next to him. Tadashi should've expected it because that's where he always sleeps, but he's been trying so hard to push all thoughts of Tsukishima from his mind that the idea of spending the whole night next to him completely blindsides him. Whatever's affecting him now is _bad_ ; the feeling hasn't quite gone away yet, and right now being with Tsukishima feels hard in a way it's never been before.

He spends too long by the closet, fiddling with the loose threads of his futon. Eventually, he senses Daichi and Suga starting to notice him hovering around their area too long, so he swallows and heads over to Tsukishima. Luckily, he's messing with his phone, so he lets Tadashi lay his futon out in silence, which is a welcome sort of relief. Even though he knows he should be greeting Tsukishima, he can't bring himself to say a word.

"You're quiet," Tsukishima points out without saying hello, just as Tadashi sits down, and he immediately regrets not saying anything. 

He glances at Tsukishima for a second and then looks away. He seems so normal it feels like what he saw earlier was just Tadashi’s imagination, like maybe he'd just mistaken the person Kuroo was with in the gym for Tsukishima. But that can't be true; Tadashi knows Tsukishima like the back of his hand, and he'd never make mistake like that. Plus, Tsukishima making out with Kuroo isn't something he'd see in his wildest dreams ( _nightmares?_ ); he wouldn't come up with that by accident.

Still, ah... Tsukishima really is cool, right? To be able to act normal after what he's been doing... Tadashi definitely couldn't do that. He can't even act normal after _seeing_ it.

Well, he... has to. Swallowing and forcing a smile, Tadashi somehow chokes out, "I'm tired," and it's not a lie, so he doesn't feel bad about it. He's glad that at least Tsukishima hasn't found out that he'd been looking for him earlier. Tsukishima's smart enough to put two and two together, and if he finds out he walked in on them... Tadashi doesn't know how their relationship will change, but he knows he doesn't want it to. Tsukishima can tell him about Kuroo when he's okay with it.

"You left quickly earlier, in the cafeteria," Tsukishima comments, not glancing away from his phone screen, and it doesn't sound like an accusation but it feels like one. "Did something happen?"

Tsukishima's... definitely realized he's been acting weird. Tadashi thinks for a second, and then speaks again. "I... needed to practice my jump float," he explains. "I want to be more useful to the team." It's not really the truth, but it's not really a lie, either. He's said things to like this to Tsukishima before, so he definitely won't question them.

"You're working hard, aren't you?" Tsukishima says, peering over at Tadashi, and it's not a question. "Well, get enough sleep, then."

Crawling into his futon and turning away from him, Tadashi promises, "I will, Tsukki."

He doesn't.

* * *

The next morning, Tadashi feels like the world's shifted to where it's supposed to be. The stirring feeling is gone and he doesn't think about what he saw last night as often as he did yesterday. Speaking of yesterday, how he felt and everything - it's totally normal. Being that shocked by something can affect you really strongly, but it eventually wears off. He and Tsukishima are too close for Tadashi to let something like that affect him.

Breakfast passes just like usual, Tadashi's conversations with Tsukishima going much better than they did last night. Tsukishima doesn't mention Kuroo, which Tadashi's fine with because he knows Tsukishima doesn't usually talk about things like that; he's probably just waiting for the right time. But it feels like he's actively trying to hide it, which is more effort than Tsukishima is usually willing to put in to anything. When Kuroo waves bye to him, Tsukishima only nods, and Kuroo smirks and turns away. The exchange is less than a minute; Tadashi would have missed it if seeing Kuroo didn't put him on edge.

He sits next to Tsukishima on the bus, letting him take the window seat like he usually does. They sit in silence for a while, Tsukishima gazing lazily out the window and Tadashi feeling a little fidgety. They've been friends for a long time, so Tadashi's as used to silence as he possibly can be, but even though he knows he's over the atmosphere from yesterday, it's not completely gone. Glancing over at Tsukishima, but not wanting to be caught staring, he darts his eyes around the bus, trying not to do things like wonder what Tsukishima's looking at or thinking about.

"Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun aren't here. I bet they're still in the gym!" he comments with a weak chuckle, and he cringes a little after he says it. He feels Tsukishima's gaze move briefly to him.

"They're idiots," Tsukishima comments matter-of-factly, with no bite to his words.

"Yeah, you're right," Tadashi says, looking at Tsukishima. if he noticed the weirdness or pointlessness of Tadashi's comment, he's not saying anything. It's uncommon for Tsukishima to humor him the way he is, but he's happy about it. It makes him feel like yesterday has gone away.

Probably feeling his unintentional stare, Tsukishima turns back to look at him, eyes curious. The weird comfortable feeling disappears. It feels like the first time in a long time that they've made eye contact, and Tsukishima's gaze pierces. Tadashi flounders for a second. "But," Tadashi starts to say, and what the hell is he doing, things are awkward and _he_ doesn't know what to say, "you must've gotten better at blocking, right? Since you practiced so much!"

Tsukishima probably doesn't hear it, but Tadashi hears it: Since you practiced so much _with Kuroo and Bokuto_ , since you practiced so much _with Kuroo_ , since you, and Kuroo... "practiced"? Tadashi squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head; this kind of mistake is the last thing he needs right now (but he _just_ saw Kuroo, how was he supposed to already get it out of his mind?) because _dammit_ , he's over it!

"Are you okay?" Tsukishima asks, eyes narrowed. Ah... Tadashi's still acting weird. If he acts weird long enough for Tsukishima to be curious about it... he might actually realize why he's acting weird. He just needs to be normal Tadashi, normal Tadashi...

"Yeah! I'm just.... uh... still tired. From yesterday," he says, flashing Tsukishima a forced grin and rubbing the back of his neck. It's the same excuse from last night, but an excuse is an excuse. If he just keeps talking, Tsukishima probably won't notice anything wrong.

Tsukishima frowns and tsks in disapproval. "You shouldn't push yourself," he chides him coolly.

"Ah, don't worry, Tsukki!" Tadashi says, waving his hands in front of his chest. "I'm fine! Actually, I just ended up helping Kageyama-kun and Hinata-kun practice last night, so I wasn't working so hard! You know, they can just keep going over and over again, it's kind of amazing. I usually just stop after I get bored, but when it's just you and them there's this motivation that just gets you, and you feel like maybe if you practice enough, you could be the top player in Japan!"

Tsukishima turns back towards the window, responding with only a small "mm..." Tadashi adjusts his seatbelt.

"Not that... I think I'll become the top player, just... there's this feeling! Like you could never be bored playing volleyball!" Tadashi glances at Tsukishima, who's barely moved. This is how it usually is. Tadashi keeps talking. "You should know about that, right? Ever since you started practicing with those guys from Nekoma and Fukurodani, you've gotten a lot better! I guess, uh, sometimes, you just... need to..."

"Yamaguchi," Tsukishima cuts him off, his face gone dark, "you're awfully loud for someone who's tired, aren't you?"

Oh. 

* * *

Tsukishima's phone buzzes for the fifth time since they started speaking, and Tadashi shifts in his seat. Tsukishima hasn't said a word about Kuroo in the week that's passed since training camp, and the constant ringing might be the worst part.

Tadashi glances away from Tsukishima and tries not to look bothered. He's... not sure he's doing that well. Not that Tsukishima's paying attention, anyway. Still, deciding to at least try to seem normal, Tadashi unwraps the red bean bun in his hands and bites into it. He cringes just a little bit when he tastes the filling; the texture is affecting him a lot more than it usually does. Wrinkling his nose, he forces himself to swallow.

Agh... He shouldn't really be offended about Tsukishima not saying anything, even if they've been friends so long, because Tsukishima is Tsukishima no matter what, and he's always been adamant about minding his own business. That he even expected him to tell him about Kuroo was unrealistic from the start, but Tadashi knew him so well. He really thought that, if anyone, he'd tell him. He probably didn't tell anyone, but...

He watches Tsukishima frown at his phone and tap something out quickly, and annoyed as he seems, Tadashi knows it isn't... real. In that Tsukishima hates it. If Tsukishima hated it, he'd just turn off his phone. The way he frowns and tsks and still answers back as quickly as possible... Tsukishima usually leaves _Tadashi_ hanging, so he knows that it means more than it looks like. That's probably the worst thing about all of it. If their relationship was only physical, it'd still weird him out, but he'd understand why Tsukishima didn't bother to mention it to him. He still understands why he didn't mention it now, but the fact that they're _dating_ and he's never seen him humor someone this much before ( _even him_ ), it's...

...If he feels like this, Tsukishima's probably right, not telling him about it. Tadashi should just be happy for him. Tsukishima's his friend, and it's the first time he's ever felt like that towards anyone. Tadashi used to think Tsukishima just couldn't like someone like that at all, the same way he can't hold a conversation the way most people do or the way he has to be cool all the time, even when most people break. It wouldn't be weird or bad if it was true, just... Tsukishima. Still... Tadashi's happy he's finding out things about Tsukishima that he didn't know before and he's happy Tsukishima's happier and that he can be more open than he usually is ( _even if it's not with Tadashi_ ). He's his friend; friends like watching their friends grow and be happy. And Tsukishima _is_ growing. He really wouldn't text _anyone_ like that before; Tadashi gave up on texting him a long time ago just because of that. He's... happy for him.

"Sorry," Tsukishima starts to say, looking up from his phone, "I-"

"It's fine, Tsukki," Tadashi reassures him, too fast. He only realizes his mistake when Tsukishima eyes widen like he's just been burned. Ah, Tadashi's just been feeling a little uneasy, and he kind of didn't.... want to hear what Tsukishima was going to say. He's apologized a lot for the interruptions, because he's always polite, but he's... not going to tell him about Kuroo. The vague excuses Tsukishima gives just remind him of that, which kind of... ah. 

"That's good, then," Tsukishima says, all the surprise on his face gone, his voice sounding more compliant than annoyed.

Tadashi bites his lip as guilt pulls at him. He hasn't really given Tsukishima credit, this whole week. He probably feels _something_ about not telling Tadashi about Kuroo, even if he barely shows it. "It's _really_ fine. I'm just stressed because..." Tadashi wracks his brain for a believable lie. "...I don't really understand... geometry, and... my mom might make me quit volleyball if my grades get worse. I'm not on the main roster, you know?" He forces a self-deprecating chuckle just to drive in his point. It's only a half-lie - he really doesn't understand geometry, but he probably just needs to study a little to make up for it. Wait... Study... If he uses this, maybe he can... "Oh, uh... actually, is it alright if you tutor me? Maybe this Sunday?" 

He asks Tsukishima to tutor him because he learns faster with Tsukishima's help, and maybe also because he wants to spend more time with Tsukishima; _real_ time, not passing conversations in between breaks or walks home. He wants to hang out with Tsukishima because Tsukishima wants to hang out with him. It's a shot in the dark, since Tsukishima's not patient or gentle and thinks teaching is troublesome, but still. Tadashi feels like being with him like that, it'll make him feel a little bit better about everything.

He watches Tsukishima tilt his head to the side and slowly turn his gaze to the ground next to him. "...Next Sunday," he says, "I'm busy. I need to bring something to Akiteru."

"Ah, then," Tadashi says, sitting up in his chair. That's disappointing, but maybe he can... "I could come with you? I haven't seen Akiteru since last summer, and-"

At this point, Tadashi knows, he's way past desperate. Since they were young, when Tadashi invited himself over to Tsukishima's house every other day, Akiteru's always been a little like the older brother he's always wished he had, but... it's not the kind of relationship where it makes sense for Tadashi to buy a train ticket to visit him. Tadashi can't even use the excuse of wanting to get out of Torono Town; they were just in a training camp in Tokyo and the place Akiteru goes to college in is essentially a second version of their hometown. Somehow, though, Tadashi can't bring himself to care that what he's saying doesn't make sense - he just needs to spend time like this with Tsukishima, any way he can.

Tsukishima's eyebrows furrow just slightly while Tadashi speaks, until he finally cuts him off. "Shouldn't you study?"

Tadashi winces. "You're... right," he concedes, digging his fingers into the bun in his hands. Tsukishima is silent, and for a while, they eat without saying anything. Tadashi thinks to himself that red bean buns really are kind of awful.

"Yamaguchi," Tsukishima starts to say, finally breaking the silence, when - Tsukishima's text tone goes off, Tadashi remembers that he's never heard about Tsukishima ever traveling hours just to do his brother a favor, and Tadashi realizes just what Tsukishima meant when he said "Akiteru."

He watches his best friend reach for his phone.

* * *

It's coming on two weeks, and Tadashi is starting to feel like he's disappearing. 

He knows it's his own fault. Tsukishima is the same as he's always been, still cold, but not any less soft - though Tadashi's starting to wonder if he really knows what "soft" means for Tsukishima, since the way he acts towards Kuroo is so-

Tadashi shuts his eyes, slowly, and releases a breath, loosening his grip on the volleyball he's been digging his nails into. Tsukishima is off in another part of the gym, practicing blocking with Suga and Tanaka, and these days Tadashi's starting to prefer that to them practicing by themselves together. He's practicing by himself alone now, but... at least when it's just him, he's okay with the silence. 

Ah... that's a depressing thought. He holds back a sigh and tosses the ball in his hands in the air, jumping to hit it - and it works. He watches the ball turn in the air and savors the small moment of pride, pushing out all the other distractions from his mind. It feels good; he's glad that right now, at least, he's still got volleyball. It's funny because even though volleyball is the reason he and Tsukishima ever got so close, it's the only place he and Tsukishima can't be attached at the hip.

(And that kind of hurts, because he knows the reason they're so used to being with each other is because they like it, but now-)

"Yamaguchi-kun?" Tadashi hears behind him, the question shaking all the thoughts from his head. He lowers the ball he was about to toss in the air and turns around to see Yachi behind him, tiny and friendly and cute, just like usual.

"Ah, Yachi-chan," he greets her, and for a second, he wonders what she wants. He's always liked Yachi - he even had that crush for a while, although it went away pretty quickly - and they've spoken, but they're not really close enough to go looking for each other. She always seemed intimidated by Tsukishima, and for a while, she seemed a little intimidated by Tadashi, too. It's why his crush fizzled out like it did.

Yachi tugs at her white gym shirt, looking at him for a second and then shifting her gaze to the floor. She's hesitant, which Tadashi doesn't really understand. She never gets nervous when she asks him about club activities anymore; Kiyoko and Hinata have helped her get used to it by now. "Do you want me to throw to you?" she finally asks, speaking way too fast, like the entire question is just one word. "You're just practicing alone here, so I thought I could-" She drifts off abruptly, looking at the ground.

Tadashi can't help the tiny grin that overtakes his face. It's nice to see someone other than him be so out of it. It's funny, too, because as long as she's been with them, she still doesn't completely get the game. She's probably used to throwing for Kageyama and Hinata, but all Tadashi does is jump floats. Since he throws the ball into the air himself, practicing with someone else isn't really necessary. But... He starts tossing the volleyball he's holding from one hand to another. He doesn't really like... practicing alone. And having Yachi around makes it harder for him to get depressed. Even though he's not really sure why she's here...

 Now that he thinks of it, it is kind of weird. Yachi usually spends practice talking with Kiyoko on the sidelines or helping Hinata and Kageyama. Sometimes she's with Daichi and Suga, but he's pretty sure she's still scared of Daichi, which he definitely understands. Daichi's never been mad at him, but when he does get mad... He gets shivers thinking about it. People think Tsukishima's scary, and sometimes he is, but he's more scared of people who are usually nice. At least Asahi never gets like that...

But, ah, back on topic... _Why_ is she here? He looks at her, messing with the hem of her gym shirt, and notices the heavy atmosphere surrounding her. Oh, he... hasn't answered her yet, has he? For someone shy as Yachi, long silences after she talks must be... discouraging. He definitely understands that; the way it's been lately with Tsukishima...

"If you don't mind..." Tadashi replies, hopefully gently, even though it is delayed. But Yachi just stands where she is, still fiddling with her shirt, and Tadashi coughs. "Yachi-chan?"

Her eyes go as big as dinner plates. "Oh! That's - good!" she says, her mouth turned up into something that looks like it's supposed to be a smile, but only makes Tadashi feel a little worried for her. He watches her walk over to the volleyball bin, fish out a ball, and start to throw it at him, which makes him scared for a second, but she sees the ball in his hand and quickly stops, taking a step back like she saw a ghost behind him.

She's definitely not usually like this. "Are you alright?" Tadashi asks her, and she nods vehemently. He still doesn't believe her, but... "I'll... serve this, then?" He gestures to the ball in his hands.

"Definitely!" Yachi says, in a way that's about thirty percent enthusiasm and seventy percent nervousness. She's clutching the ball in her hands so tightly her fingertips are going white.

He turns his head away from her, keeping her in the corner of his vision, and during the entire serve, from the toss to the jump to the hit, he feels her eyes on her. It puts him a little on edge, but luckily, he times his hit right, the ball pausing in the air, and he gets that proud feeling again.

"Wow!" Yachi exclaims, and it sounds genuine this time, less afraid. "That's amazing! I've never seen you do it this close before!" Tadashi turns to look at her and he sees stars in her eyes, the death grip on the volleyball in her hands loosened, and heat rises to his cheeks. He's never really been praised like this before, and he knows Yachi doesn't have that much experience with volleyball, but it still makes him feel good. Although he does feel like her reaction must be at least a little for his benefit.

"It can't be that amazing," Tadashi says, rubbing the back of his neck. "You always help Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun with their quick, right? Compared to that, this isn't really..."

He drifts off when he catches a glimpse of the fire lighting in Yachi's pupils. She leans forward, pulling the ball towards her chest. "No way! When it stops in the air and then starts going again - and when you hit it, there's this look on your face! And you do it so easily, you just toss the ball in the air - it's like you're not even thinking about it!"

"Ah, it's the only thing I do, so I practice it a lot. And it's not really because of me, if it wasn't for Shimada-san..." Tadashi gives a weak laugh, feeling a little overwhelmed. Where did the Yachi from ten minutes ago go? "But thanks." He looks at Yachi, who still looks fired up, and decides to cut her off before she starts again. "I could try to teach you, if you want?" It's a spur-of-the-moment offer, but she really seems like she likes the serve, and maybe if she knows how to do it-

"Oh, no," Yachi says, the fire disappearing from her eyes. She turns around and pulls a volleyball from the bin. "No, no, no, no, no. The last time I tried to- I can't."

The last time she...? Oh. He remembers that week Hinata was walking around with a bruise on his chin because of Yachi. She's definitely stronger than she looks. And louder, sometimes. "That's fine. I don't think I'd be that good at teaching, anyway." Especially with someone as high-strung as Yachi... But it is nice having her around.

"No!" Yachi insists, quickly. "I'm just - kind of clumsy. I think you'd-" She throws the ball to him. "I think you'd be great at it!"

 Tadashi catches the ball right at his chest and grins, a little bit. He feels... good, somehow. Even though she's sometimes a little bit too much, too nervous, too nice, he still... Yeah. Maybe he was a little bit wrong before. Maybe... he doesn't like practicing alone that much, after all.

"Thanks," Tadashi says, throwing the ball into the air. 

* * *

Tadashi watches Tsukishima pull on the jacket of his gakuran, his right arm first, and then his left, every movement somehow precise and deliberate. Tadashi would find it almost entrancing if the silence between them wasn't weighing so heavily on him.

It's a couple of days later, after practice. Tsukishima's taken a long time to change, which Tadashi's used to, and he's waiting for him, because he's used to that, too. If he started doing things like leaving without Tsukishima, with this atmosphere, he doesn't know what Tsukishima would take that mean. Or what... _he_ would take that to mean. It might feel a little like giving up on him, which... ah. He doesn't know.

Tsukishima meets Tadashi's gaze, his eyes narrowed, and Tadashi realizes he's been staring. He turns his head away from him, considers apologizing, when Tsukishima breaks the silence. "Why does she practice with you?" he asks Tadashi, buttoning the last button of his jacket and slinging his bag over his arm. "Yachi, I mean."

Tadashi's eyes widen. He didn't know Tsukishima even noticed, although... he shouldn't be surprised. Even though Yachi's only been helping him serve the last few days, noticing is probably what Tsukishima is best at. "Ah..." Tadashi bites his lip, floundering for a second. This isn't a normal thing for Tsukishima to ask, or point out. He doesn't like pointless conversation, and he only cares about things relevant to him, so... what does he think he'll get, from knowing this? "What do you mean?"

Tsukishima's eyes fix on Tadashi for a split second, his face impossible to read, and then he turns around, starting to walk out of the locker room into the gym. Tadashi trails behind him, just a little bit hesitantly. "You only practice serving," Tsukishima points out, slowing his walk a second to hold the clubroom door open for Tadashi. "You throw the ball into the air yourself, don't you? But she still throws to you."

"Y-You're right..." Tadashi says, trailing off because he's a complete loss as for what to say. He... doesn't need Yachi for the serve. That's true. The thought has crossed his mind more than a couple of times. And yet... having her around is good. It makes him feel better, about volleyball but also in general. He feels that much more confident, that much less lonely, but... he can't tell Tsukishima that. How is he supposed to explain that to him, that he doesn't like practicing alone, but he also doesn't like practicing with him, in that cloud of silence that seems to form whenever they're together? He doesn't want to acknowledge that silence; eventually, he knows, it's got to go away. He just has to wait. If he tries to talk about it, with someone like Tsukishima-

"If you practiced something else, it would be better, wouldn't it? Maybe receiving? Or blocking? Since you have someone else," Tsukishima says, and Tadashi realizes they've already reached the stairs. "It would be a shame to waste it."

The tension building in Tadashi disappears. So... that's what Tsukishima meant. Ha, he shouldn't be surprised. Tsukki... isn't that type of person. Tadashi smiles in relief. "Oh, I thought that wouldn't really come in handy. Since I'm just a pinch server!"

Tsukishima stops walking, and it's just to let Tadashi catch up (Tsukishima's legs are long and he walks too fast for Tadashi), but he glances sideways at him for just a second, and his gaze in that second is so cold that it leaves Tadashi shivering. Looking forward again, Tsukishima says, "It's only a suggestion, Yamaguchi." Tsukishima starts walking again. "I'm going to stop by the vending machine; I want strawberry milk."

"I'll come, too. I want barley tea," Tadashi says, instead of taking the out. He doesn't know what was up with the look he'd gotten from Tsukishima, but... he'll follow him for now.

Eventually, the silence settles back, and he stands with Tsukishima in silence, watching him fish coins out of his bag. Strawberry milk... It's really girly, too girly for Tadashi to be caught drinking, but it suits Tsukishima somehow. Ah... After some thought, that seems a little like an insult, but it really isn't. Tsukishima... He's too cool for appearances, anyway. And there's something about something that sweet, to the point where it's too much, almost sickly...

Tsukishima is putting coins into vending machine when Tadashi sees Hinata walk out of the gym with Yachi, shadowed by Kageyama. It's a familiar scene. They're chattering about something loudly - because it _is_ Hinata, ha - but Tadashi doesn't have his mind empty enough to make out the words. For a second, he considers calling out to them, but decides against it, just as Tsukishima-

"Yamaguchi-kun!" Hinata calls out, waving Tadashi down frantically. "I didn't see you! Come over here!" 

"Ah," Tadashi says, glancing at Tsukishima, who only nods. Taking it as an okay, he walks over to Hinata, who almost seems to be bouncing in place. "What's up?"

"Me and Kageyama and Yachi are gonna play video games at my house! Wanna come?" Hinata smiles as he speaks, warm in that same way he always does. Tadashi feels his eyebrows furrow, just a little.

It doesn't... make sense. That he'd call him over like that, just to invite him, out of the blue? It's not that they're not close, and it's not that they've never spent time together outside of club, it's just that... when he's with Tsukishima, Hinata doesn't usually interrupt like that, and not for something like an invitation out of nowhere. Tadashi examines Kageyama's face; he's got to realize this is weird, right? And since Kageyama is usually bad with people, it must make him feel... a _little_ uncomfortable, right? Or... maybe unhappy is the better word. Tadashi isn't the most intimidating person, after all. But Kageyama just stands behind Hinata silently, the way he usually does, the only trace of discomfort the almost sheepish, slightly disgruntled look on his face. It's not angry, and it's not nervous, and Kageyama is the type of person who would just say he doesn't want something to happen if it's about to happen, so... Tadashi is at a loss. He looks at Yachi, who smiles at him. Her expression is a little nervous, but Tadashi is starting to think that her face just looks like that.

"Hey," a voice says behind him as a cold can of barley tea is pressed into the top of his right shoulder. Tadashi turns his head and sees Tsukishima to his side, face cold and unreadable as he sips the drink in his hand.

"Oh... Thanks, Tsukki!" Tadashi says, taking the can in his left hand and digging through his pockets with the right. "That's... a hundred yen, right?"

Tsukishima releases the straw from between his lips. "Pay me back tomorrow."

"Mm..." That... makes sense. It's nice he got the drink for him anyway. Tadashi rubs the coin in his pocket between his fingertips. For a second, he looks away from Tsukishima, and, catching Hinata's orange hair in the corner of his eye, he remembers that he'd been talking to people before Tsukishima walked over. "Oh! Uh, Hinata invited us to his house-"

Tsukishima's expression doesn't change, which somehow stings a little more than if it turned to disgust. "Boring. I'm going home," he cuts Tadashi off, and without waiting for a reply, he turns around and starts walking away, bringing the straw up to his mouth again.

"Wait, Tsukki!" Tadashi calls, halfheartedly reaching out for him when Hinata whines, before he can even think about how Tsukishima's abrupt departure makes him feel. He lowers his arm.

"So you're coming, right?" Hinata asks, bouncing around a little faster. Oof... He's losing patience, isn't he? Tadashi's still at a loss.

After turning back to watch Tsukishima's retreating back, he glances at Hinata again. "I don't... know..." Agh. There's no reason to say no, and he doesn't really like spending hours in his empty house, but... he should probably go after Tsukishima. Right? Except... usually, when Tsukishima leaves, he doesn't want Tadashi to follow him. Though Tsukishima doesn't want Tadashi to _not_ follow him either. Tsukishima just... doesn't care. Which is how he usually is. And if Tadashi follows him... they'll probably just split up where they usually do on their walk home anyway. But it's still Tsukishima, and Tadashi always goes after him... even when Tsukishima doesn't want him to? But then-

"Eh, you're taking too long!" Hinata interrupts, wrinkling his nose. He turns away from Tadashi. "Hey, Yachi, convince him. Kageyama, I'll race you!"

In a second, he's off like a bullet, and Kageyama yells, "You idiot!" and then he's off, too. It's how they always are, but it leaves Tadashi alone with Yachi, who hasn't said anything to him yet. She spends a long moment examining him silently, her eyes narrowing just a little. It feels kind of strange, and Tadashi flashes her an uneasy smile. She jumps. 

"Ah! Um, Yamaguchi-kun, you should come!" she says, her fists clenched at her sides. She's silent for a second, and then her head tilts to the side, eyes turning sheepish. "Especially since... those two... haa..."

Oh, Tadashi thinks. Everything makes a little more sense now. Those two can be overbearing, and with just Yachi to deal with them... though she could've said no. Or... could she have? He thinks about the way Hinata invited him now, and how Yachi usually is. She can be stubborn when she needs to be, but a normal person's stubborn versus Hinata's stubborn isn't even a question. She'd probably need help. Either way... Tsukishima's long gone by now, so that option's not even open anymore. "Okay," Tadashi says. "I'll come."

Yachi's eyes light up, the way they do after he pulls off a serve. "You will? Thanks!" She smiles at him a second, and then a thought seems to come to her, and she turns her head. Tadashi follows her gaze and finds Hinata and Kageyama's figures disappearing down the hill. "We should go before they start looking for us!"

When they finally get to Hinata's house, Hinata and Kageyama are waiting for them at the front, tossing a handball back and forth. Hinata complains about them being slow, and honestly... he has a point. On the way there, they lost Hinata and Kageyama pretty quickly (Tadashi isn't about to make a girl run, especially one as small as Yachi), and even though Yachi kept insisting that she knew how to get to his house, Tadashi learned pretty quickly that she's not the best with directions.

Hinata's room is sparse, except for the poster of the Little Giant tacked up next to his bed. When they all gather around his tiny TV (uncharitably, Tadashi thinks, it's Hinata-sized) - Hinata and Yachi sitting on the bed and Tadashi and Kageyama on the floor - Kageyama thumbs through his video games and comments, "What the hell, these are all for kids..."

"Hey, you already said that last time! It's because of my sister!" Hinata complains. "Anyway, I bet you're only saying that because you're mad I'm better than you at Mario Kart!" He sticks his tongue out and Kageyama whacks his leg.

"Oi, you're not better than me at anything," Kageyama shoots back, with a face that would be smug if it weren't so thoroughly pissed. Honestly, they're such a weird pair, Tadashi thinks to himself. How do people who push each other's buttons so easily spend so much time together?

"Bring it on!"

They play a couple rounds of Mario Kart - Hinata wins all of them, probably because he owns the game, but Kageyama comes close sometimes purely by determination. By the weird way Kageyama handles a controller, it's pretty obvious he's not used to doing it, which does make sense. Kageyama seems like the kind of guy with a one-track mind; the fact that he's even able to do things unrelated to volleyball is crazy. Tadashi wouldn't go so far to expect him to be good at them.

Anyway, on video games... Tadashi shouldn't be talking. "You're terrible, Yamaguchi-kun," Kageyama says offhandedly in between races, and in a sight Tadashi almost doesn't believe he sees, Yachi kicks Kageyama in the shoulder. It's only lightly - it probably doesn't feel any stronger than a nudge - but... Yachi. Doing _that_. Kageyama, at least, doesn't say anything, and Tadashi thinks to himself that Yachi is almost definitely the only person in the room who could get away with it.

"Ha, I know," Tadashi replies to Kageyama with a weak laugh. "Tsukki's always telling me." Or he used to. When they were kids, Tsukishima had a lot of video games that were meant for two people to play together, and Tadashi's complete lack of skill irritated Tsukishima a lot, at first. They'd have to replay the same level over and over again, and Tsukishima was always the impatient type, so for a while, he'd been mean to Tadashi about it. Still, it was the kind of mean that used to roll off of Tadashi like rainwater, and Tsukishima eventually got used it. As long as Tadashi listened when Tsukishima told him to do something, Tsukishima didn't mind waiting for him to catch up.

That was a long time ago, though. Tadashi doesn't go over to Tsukishima's house anywhere near as much these days, and Tsukishima's games are all one-player now. It's... fine, though. Tadashi never liked video games that much anyway.

"Yamaguchi-kun!" Hinata calls, and Tadashi is jolted out of his thoughts by a tiny foot connecting with his shoulder, too hard. He looks back up at the TV screen and notices the game's been left on pause. How long has it been like that? "You think too much! Pay attention to the game! We can't start without you, you know!"

"Ah, sorry..." Tadashi apologizes, rubbing his arm. He's... a little surprised they waited for him.

Kageyama turns to him, and Tadashi gets scared he pissed off the King with his absentmindedness. "You're ready?" Taken a little bit aback, Tadashi nods, and Kageyama looks up at the boy above him. "Hey, we can start the game now!"

"I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Tadashi holds the game controller in his hand a little more firmly than he did before, and while he plays, surrounded by Karasuno's biggest loudmouths and its meekest manager, he thinks to himself that he probably likes video games a little more than he thought.

* * *

It's three in the morning, and Tadashi is staring at his ceiling. He's gotten used to this by now.

For a couple of minutes, he turns back and forth on his mattress, and nothing happens. He closes his eyes and counts, which his mom taught him to do a long time ago. When he gets to three hundred, his eyes snap open. The darkness is a little suffocating.

He sits up on his bed, turns to hang his feet off the side, and then puts on his slippers. Grabbing his cellphone on the way out of his room, he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. When he sits at the kitchen table and takes a sip, he thinks to himself that it's too cold.

Tadashi flips open his phone and thumbs through old texts. Something from Daichi about practice, something from Hinata about video games, something from his mother about coming home soon. He finds the last text he exchanged with Tsukishima ( _good luck on exams!_ ), from about a month ago. Tsukishima never responded.

With his right hand, before thinking about anything, he types something out ( _sorry i didn't walk home with you_ ), sends it, and closes his phone. He doesn't think too hard about it. It's the part of the night where nothing matters. The way they are now, anyway, Yamaguchi's three in the morning is worlds away from Tsukishima's three in the morning. Even if Tsukishima reads the text, he won't get it.

Tadashi's phone buzzes, the screen reading _Tsukishima (1)_. He clicks. ( _why are you apologizing?_ )

Tadashi turns off his phone.

* * *

Tadashi is fishing through his bag for the red bean bun he'd packed that morning when Hinata bursts through his classroom's doorway, followed closely by Kageyama. He yells out Tadashi's name when he sees him, and then runs over. "Hey, did you know we're allowed to eat lunch on the roof?"

Tsukishima is tapping something on his phone. Tadashi looks at Hinata, pulling his arm out of his bag. "Uh... yes?" He's not sure what Hinata wants from the question, but he's not surprised Hinata's here. Or Kageyama. It's been a while since Tadashi went over to Hinata's house, and since then, Hinata and Kageyama have sort of adopted him, in a weirdly-matched little trio. Seeking him out during break, during practice, sometimes, before Yachi gets to him, on the walk home... He's not sure why, but he doesn't really mind the company.

"It's because he listens when other people talk, dumbass," Kageyama says, his mouth turned down into a somehow smug-looking frown.

Hinata turns to his side and narrows his eyes at Kageyama. "Hey, _you_ can't say that to me! Anyway, I'm not talking to you!" He looks back at Tadashi. "Let's eat on the roof!"

"Ah..." Tadashi tilts his head to the side. "Isn't it... cold on the roof?"

Hinata wrinkles his nose and pouts. "Yamaguchi-kun, don't be lame!" Kageyama says something about Hinata being lame, and they start bickering again. Tadashi tunes it out.

...Honestly, Hinata has a point. If Tadashi said that "cold" thing in grade school, he'd probably be made fun of. He got teased enough for being skinny, so being too wussy for cold weather probably- Oh, speaking of getting made fun of in grade school... Tadashi glances at Tsukishima, who hasn't looked up from his phone yet. About the phone thing… Tadashi feels a little better about it. Tsukishima at least listens while Tadashi speaks, so... he'll take the small victories. "Tsukki, did you hear Hinata-kun? Let's eat lunch-"

"I have something to do," Tsukishima cuts him off, still tapping away on his phone. Tadashi looks at Hinata and hesitates for a second when Tsukishima interrupts him. "Just go." 

Tadashi stands up, grabbing his bag and jacket. "Okay..." he says, a little shakily. This... always happens. He knows that, even though Tsukishima doesn't hate Hinata or Kageyama as much as he used to, he's still not fond of them. Him saying this... shouldn't still be affecting Tadashi so much. He turns away from Tsukishima. "Hinata-kun, Kageyama-kun, let's go."

"Ah, cool!" Hinata starts walking out, and Tadashi and Kageyama follow behind him.

"You're too excited. It's just the roof."

"Eh, Kageyama, you're so boring. Yamaguchi-kun- Yamaguchi-kun?"

Tadashi glances back into the classroom, standing just at the edge of the doorway. Tsukishima is still on his phone, still tapping away; it feels a little bit like whether or not Tadashi is there, everything Tsukishima does is the same. That thought kind of hurts, but also - if everything is the same for Tsukishima, why would he want Tadashi to leave? Is his presence that... Tadashi closes his eyes and opens them. His head is swirling; he feels like he did that time that wasn't that long ago but feels like ages ago now, when he accidentally saw Tsukishima and Kuroo together in that empty gym. Looking at Tsukishima now, engrossed in a screen, Tadashi guesses it's not that different. Since he is with Kuroo right now anyway, as much as he can be. Tadashi wonders... If Kuroo lived in Torono Town, would Tsukishima still... ah.

"Yamaguchi-kun? Are you-"

Tadashi turns again, forcing a smile. "Ah, I was just thinking. I... don't know why Tsukki always says no."

The second Tadashi finishes speaking, he sees Hinata and Kageyama go stiff. Whatever Hinata was about to say - something about being slow, probably - is lost in the air, and Hinata and Kageyama _look_ at each other, in a way that's different from the glances they sneak when the other one isn't looking, different from the way they look at each other when they practice together, different from those faces contorted by yelling when they compete. It's a look Tadashi's never seen on either of them.

 But he knows what it means.

"Aw," Hinata finally says, breaking the silence, smiling like he always does but still looking obviously uncomfortable, "it's just Stingyshima, right? Don't worry about it!"

A second passes. Tadashi nods, forcing himself to smile. "You're right. It's... just Tsukki. I shouldn't have let it get to me." Hinata and Kageyama are still standing stock-still. Tadashi breathes in and tries to act normal. A little ironic, that it'd be up to him. "Ah, let's go...?"

After he speaks, the tension breaks, and Hinata and Kageyama go back to normal, Hinata going back to being weirdly excited about the roof (unkindly, Tadashi thinks that maybe he just wants to feel tall for once in his life) and Kageyama going back to making fun of him for it. It's almost like that weird moment before didn't happen.

Tadashi... wishes it didn't.  


* * *

In the next few days, it becomes glaringly obvious, and Tadashi thinks to himself that he should've realized sooner.

Whenever Tadashi successfully completes a serve or receive or _anything_ during one of their practice matches with the Neighborhood Association, the team starts cheering for him, way more than any of his techniques deserve. When Tadashi slides particularly well during a receiving exercise, Daichi awkwardly pats him on the back and says, "Good job." Tanaka even stopped by him once during free practice with Yachi, completely out of nowhere, just to say, "Keep working hard, Yamaguchi!"

That part... is a little humiliating, especially considering how good the people complimenting him are, but he gets it; the guys on the team don't really know how to make people feel good about themselves without using volleyball. It's just the fact that they realized he needed someone to make him feel better at all.

It's a bad feeling, but it's also not a bad feeling. Even if he knows they're just doing it to be nice, it's not like that stops it from helping. Especially with Yachi, Hinata, and Kageyama - without them, he's not sure where he'd be. And he knows that just because they just started being weirdly nice to him because he seemed sad or whatever doesn't mean that their kindness wasn't genuine, that they're not really his friends. He's grateful, just a little... ashamed.

Tadashi wonders if Tsukishima's paying enough attention to notice. He hopes he's not. The first thing Tadashi ever heard Tsukishima say was just one word: "Pathetic."

...Yeah. 

* * *

When Tadashi leaves his classroom at the end of classes on Saturday, he finds Yachi waiting for him at the doorway.

It was her idea. A couple of days ago, during practice, Yachi said something about hearing that he wasn't doing well at math - probably from Hinata or Kageyama, Tadashi had mentioned it offhandedly to them when they were complaining about schoolwork - and she offered to tutor him. Well, she said "study with" him, but he knew what she meant. He's used to studying on his own, so he doesn't really need her help, but he's never being one to turn down company, so he ended up taking her up on her offer. Honestly, school's been the last thing on his mind lately; if it stays like that, he really will have to worry about his parents getting on his back.

Yachi smiles when she greets him, but there's something in her eyes. Tadashi adjusts his bag strap. Yachi probably saw Tsukishima come out before him... This feeling is getting kind of old, honestly. Tadashi is a lot less fragile than he was a while ago. He wishes he could tell her that, somehow. He's alright.

He settles for the next best thing and says, "Thanks for offering to help me study, Yachi-chan."

While they walk to the library, Yachi tells Tadashi about how the last time practice was canceled, Shimizu took her out for parfaits. Something about how amazed she was that she wanted to spend time with her outside of volleyball, and how scared she was that she'd get murdered by her fanclub... Tadashi really does worry about her paranoia sometimes, but he's sure both of them are better off without him mentioning it. Honestly, though, the murder thing isn't even the weirdest thing she says. Yachi devotes maybe a solid minute talking about how Shimizu had whipped cream at the corner of her mouth when they were eating. She says something about how amazing it is - how even someone like Shimizu isn't perfect all the time - but being friends with Tsukishima so long, Tadashi knows how to read between the lines. Yachi was staring at Shimizu's lips, and she was staring at them long enough to still be thinking about them a week later. Yeesh... Tadashi really was out of his league with that crush he used to have on her, huh? He laughs.

He never really got the whole Shimizu thing. Well... no. He _gets_ it - you'd have to be blind to not know how pretty Shimizu is - it's just... he likes cute. The cool and beautiful type always was a little too much for him.

When they get to the library, Tadashi finds them a spot near the window pretty quickly. The place isn't that busy; the testing period ended a while ago, and it's not close enough to the next testing period for regular students to start panicking. While Yachi thumbs through her notebooks - she really does have a lot; it's kind of amazing to Tadashi that a student can be that diligent - Tadashi scans the pages of his reference book carefully, scribbling notes in the margins.

After Yachi finds her notebook, they start doing practice problems together, and it really does help. Yachi is a vocal study partner in that she admits when something doesn't make sense, and she works really hard to make it make sense. But it turns out not to be a tutoring session at all; Yachi doesn't seem to be any more well off than him when it comes to math, though she does have a lot more in terms of determination.

They finish about an hour and a half later, after they do a good chunk of the problems in the reference book. Yachi seems like she could go for more, but Tadashi starts getting restless when he studies too long. As they put away their books, Yachi looks at Tadashi and says, "You're good at math!" She smiles sheepishly. "It's my weakest subject. I guess I shouldn't have tried to help you... ha..."

"I understand," Tadashi says, standing up and slinging his back over his shoulder, "I'm hopeless at English, you know? Anyway, I study alone a lot, so I usually figure something out. But you did help, Yachi-chan!" Honestly, his problems in geometry ended up amounting to just the fact that he was distracted during class. Not that it was even a real problem. He just brought it up to Tsukishima that time a while ago, and he brought it up again to Hinata and Kageyama just to have something to say. He's probably lucky Tsukishima didn't agree to tutor him; someone as observant as him would probably have no problem catching Tadashi in his sort-of lie. He's lucky Yachi is the sort of person to expect the best from others.

Yachi stands up, too, and glances out the window. "Huh, it's still early," she says, and she's not wrong. They honestly didn't spend that much time studying (Tadashi is well aware of his low stamina when it comes to academics) and it is Saturday. It's about the time classes get out on weekdays. "Yamaguchi-kun, can we... uh... get food?" She puts on her bag.

"Ah, sure," Tadashi agrees. He's kind of hungry, too, actually. "I guess we skipped lunch? Shouldn't have forgotten..." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Too bad Hinata-kun isn't here!" Yachi jokes, and Tadashi laughs. He feels a little bad that Hinata is so easy to make fun of that even Yachi doesn't think of him as off-limits.

They settle on WcDonald's without any difficulty, since Tadashi suggested it after Yachi didn't volunteer anything. He's glad she said yes, even if he didn't expect anything different; he doesn't feel like the buns at the Foothill Store, and he doesn't have that much money on him anyway.

By the time they get to the restaurant, the place is almost full. Tadashi finds a table for two squished by the wall, and he lets Yachi sit there while he gets their order: french fries for him and a caramel sundae of her. By what she wants, it... really doesn't seem like Yachi is actually hungry, but Tadashi guesses he wouldn't know. Maybe Yachi is just the kind of person who eats ice cream when she's hungry. He won’t say anything; Tsukishima’s the same.

When Tadashi gets back with their food, Yachi's face is scrunched up, like she's thinking really hard. Tadashi saw that exact expression a couple times in the library, when she couldn't get a concept and for all his explanations, Tadashi just couldn't make it make sense to her. She smiles a little when she sees him, handing him a hundred-yen coin, but in a second, she's stirring her sundae with a plastic spoon and the lines are back on her face.

 "Are you okay?" Tadashi finally asks, fishing for a soft french fry. Yachi keeps stirring, and Tadashi coughs. "Yachi-chan."

"Ah!" Yachi says, her eyes going wide, the spoon in her ice cream suddenly stopping. She looks at Tadashi for a solid second, and then looks down at her ice cream, opening her mouth like she's going to say something and then closing it. After a second, she tries again. "Uh... You know, Yamaguchi-kun... I... have a crush on Hinata-kun."

 "Eh?" Tadashi exclaims, dropping his french fry back on the tray. It takes a moment to sink in, but he's sure that no amount of time will make Yachi's weird confession make sense.

Yachi is shocked by him being shocked. "Oh! Um, no, I... used to? Ah, I..." She looks up at him. "Before, when Kiyoko-senpai convinced me to apply for manager, I told my mom about it, and she... uh. She thought I was going to be your manager halfheartedly and she said... haa. That it was the worst thing I could do to all of you, be manager like that... I was really discouraged then. I might've quit, but... Hinata-kun encouraged me, and when I told him about what my mom said, and how I still wanted to be manager, and he just said, 'If that's how you feel, why don't you tell her?' And then.... he grabbed my wrist and he ran all the way to the train station where my mom was so I could tell her, and... I did! And since then, my relationship with her has been really good! And I'm one of your managers now! If it weren't for Hinata-kun... I don't know what would've happened. So, all of that... I think... that's why I decided I like him. Ah- _liked_ him."

Tadashi swallows the food in his mouth. "Mm... That makes sense," he says, because it does. What Hinata did... It's kind of heroic, if kind of crazy. Anyone would feel in love after something like that. Though the fact that it is Hinata... He feels for her. A guy like that, his head full of volleyball... Yachi probably could do better, even if Hinata is really nice. 

"Yes, but... it was _Hinata-kun_ , so it was... I gave up a while ago. He... and Kageyama-kun, I can't really... I guess Hinata-kun would be the kind of person to tell me not to give up on anything, but..." Yachi scoops ice cream out with her spoon, looks at it a second, and then lowers it back into the cup. Tadashi doesn't say anything. After a second, she talks again. "...I think I'm happier now than before. Just being friends with him, it's already really good!"

"Ah, I'm... happy for you, Yachi-chan," Tadashi says, smiling at her as gently as he can. "But... hn... why did you decide to tell me this?"

Yachi swallows. "I...! Uh... I... guess I thought you'd understand this story the most! Because of, ah..." She plays with the plastic spoon in her sundae, refusing to make eye contact with him. "Tsukishima-kun."

For a second, Tadashi's world freezes. Talking about Tsukishima, just mentioning him... It's always been taboo, with her, and Hinata, and Kageyama, and Tanaka, and all of them, and... just... he doesn't know what to say. "What... do you mean?" Tadashi asks, his voice much higher than usual.

Yachi's eyes go big. "N-Not that I think you... and Tsukishima-kun...!" She waves her hands in front of her chest, deflating when Tadashi doesn't react. She looks down at her ice cream and then hesitantly, looks back up at him. "I mean... something's... happened, right? I... noticed. Since I'm your manager... it's my job to notice."

"I..." Yachi has done a lot for him. She probably... _definitely_ deserves better than having him lie to her face. After what she just confessed... "You're... right," Tadashi admits. "You're right, but..." He can't explain it. He doesn't even like thinking about it, let alone putting it into words... He rubs the back of his neck. "When did you notice?"

"When we came back from training camp, I saw... the way you smile, um... it's... changed? Like it's... not real, or..." She bites her lip. "Can I ask, ah... what happened...? Oh, you don't have to- tell me, if you don't want to!"

For a full minute, Tadashi doesn't speak. Yachi is about to say something, but he cuts her off. "Tsukki doesn't... need me," he admits, and he thinks to himself that the words he's saying are exactly what Tsukishima meant when he said "pathetic." "I think we... both realized it." He glances at the empty wall next to him because he knows what's in Yachi's eyes. After a second, he faces her ( _and she looks just like he expected_ ) and smiles. "Ha, I guess this is just like you and Hinata-kun. Though... I do think Hinata-kun needs you more than Tsukki needs me, Yachi-chan."

Yachi is silent for a while, just looking at him, but the pity he saw earlier is mostly gone. It's like she's... looking for something. She brings a hand to her chin. "I think... maybe... you aren't looking at it right. Rather than 'need,' you should think about 'like.' It's nice to be needed, and I did need Hinata-kun that time... but it's also nice to be liked, isn't it?” Yachi lowers her hand and leans forward. “And Tsukishima-kun does like you! Even I can tell! Because Tsukishima-kun is the kind of person who ignores people he doesn't like, or he's even cruel to them, and when you talk to him, he _answers_. And he talks to you! Even if you talk less, or you talk differently... you talk. Even if it's not as much as you thought, or in a different way, he still likes you!" Her eyes soften. "It's... good, to have the things that you have."

Tadashi... isn't sure if he believes her. He doesn't say anything. Eventually, Yachi starts to eat, and he follows her lead. When all the food is gone, she looks at him oddly and speaks again.

"You know, Yamaguchi-kun..." Yachi says. "People like my mom and Hinata-kun would say that... there's something like determination, and that's true! But I also think that, sometimes, things are just... supposed to happen, and you have to let them. Like me with Hinata-kun, I can't... help him the same way he helped me. I'm not the person who can make him the happiest. That's why things are best between us just like this."

One time, at a training camp in Tokyo, Tadashi saw Tsukishima starting to disappear, but he didn't know what to do about it. After standing around for days, he ran after him like he was the lead in some dramatic movie, and - he really won't ever forget this - Tsukishima called him cool. That might've been the happiest he's ever been. But... that isn't the end of the story. The end of the story is Tadashi standing alone in another school's walkway, and Tsukishima playing volleyball in a gym different from the one he came from, filled with different people. The end of the story is Tsukishima, learning to have passion by playing with someone else.

Tadashi was wrong, about a lot of things. Tadashi thought Tsukishima couldn't open up, that he couldn't love like that, that he'd always prefer to be sitting alone and listening to music than wasting time making conversation with another person. But none of that is true. Kuroo made him open up. Kuroo made him love. Kuroo makes Tsukishima so happy that he talks to him every second he gets the chance.

And it's good for him. Tadashi knows it. The fact that to become like this, Tsukishima has to spend less time with him, it _doesn't_ matter. Tsukishima growing and becoming happier is a lot more important than the temporary loneliness that Tadashi, with all the people supporting him, knows he'll eventually get over. Before anything, he's Tsukishima's friend.

"You're right," Tadashi hears himself say.

* * *

  
_Tadashi is sitting next to Tsukishima and staring out the window when he notices his cheeks are wet. Of course this would happen._

_The first time Tadashi plays volleyball against another school, and he's why they lose. He really... hates himself right now. It's the same feeling he gets when the other kids push him over and call him weak. The one that can't blame the bullies because they're not even wrong. He can't even play volleyball right - doing fine in practice and in four-on-four, but then freezing up every time the ball comes anywhere near him once they're in a different gym and playing people he doesn't know. Isn't that what pathetic means?_

_Or, this is what pathetic means. Crying next to his best friend on the ride home from a game he lost. The only good thing that happened to Tadashi today is that Tsukishima didn't scold him. If Tsukishima called him anything, Tadashi really would break down._

_Tadashi faces more out the window and tries to hide from Tsukishima. It doesn't do what he wants it to. Tsukishima notices Tadashi moving and looks at him - and Tadashi knows he sees. For a second, he's scared that this is it, this is where Tsukishima will draw the line, but Tsukishima just looks away and starts digging through his backpack. He pulls out a red bean bun, and holds it out towards Tadashi. "Eat this," he says._

_Tadashi sniffs, facing him now because he knows Tsukishima's seen him already. "...What?" He wipes his cheek. That's the lunch Tsukishima's mom packed for him special today instead of a pork bun. Usually she doesn't let him eat it because she's worried about his sweet tooth, but since today's their first game... Ah. Their first game, the one that he... Tadashi sniffs again._

_"Just eat it," Tsukishima says, and Tadashi does. At times, it's hard for him to swallow - partly because he doesn't like red bean buns, partly because he's crying - but he still eats it. Tsukishima nods and faces forward. "We're just kids." Tadashi makes a noise of confusion and Tsukishima looks at him. "We're just kids. We're ten years old, and that's first real game you ever played. In V. League, all the players are older than twenty. Even Akiteru is fourteen. It's stupid, if you think this means you can't play volleyball."_

_"Tsukki!" Tadashi exclaims and the tears start falling harder, but it's funny because he doesn't feel sad anymore at all._

_It's funny because even though Tsukishima can be cold and rude and mean, when Tadashi needs him most, he's not. It's funny that just words from him can make Tadashi feel so warm and happy when, just a moment before, he felt lower than ever. Tsukishima really is... important to him. He's glad Tsukishima sat next to him on the bus even though he was too scared to make eye contact with him after the game. He's glad that he chose volleyball instead of baseball or soccer or basketball. He's glad that Tsukishima was the first friend he ever made out of anybody, because without him-_

Tadashi's eyes snap open, and he notices his cheeks are wet.

He... about Tsukishima...

He should've realized a long time ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "there are things i wish you'd do more often, like laugh and talk to me" - water-gun-knife, the front bottoms
> 
> \---
> 
> things will get better for Yamaguchi from here, so sorry if this one was a little angsty for you. also, I'm thinking three or four chapters for this fic, five if necessary. next one's gonna be from tsukishima's perspective!
> 
> i'd love if you left feedback. hit me up on [tumblr](https://inspireigen.tumblr.com) if you feel like it!


	2. different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are lines on Yamaguchi's face and circles underneath his eyes. It's almost astounding, Kei thinks, how tired a high-schooler can look. He knows Yamaguchi's always had some kind of insomnia, from the nights he used to toss and turn on the floor of Kei's bedroom, but he somehow looks worse now than he ever has. He's always thought Yamaguchi was steadily getting better with time, healthier and less awkward and happier, but now it's as if he's completely regressed, back to the boy he saw crying on the playground years ago.
> 
> It strikes Kei, in that moment more than ever, that Yamaguchi isn't okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while and it is also very long. halfway through this, i was like "why did i make the first chapter so long? i can't live up to that" but then this happened. also, way more kuroo than initially planned. please be kind to him.
> 
> other things i forgot to say: i have only seen the anime. i use the manga for reference, but not ahead of where the anime is. this also definitely takes place in-between the moonrise arc and the interhigh. please just pretend there was more time in-between for tsukishima and kuroo to get to know each other.
> 
> what else? the other day i ate a soft french fry in honor of yamaguchi. they're not... good. is it a japanese thing? saitama from one punch man likes soft french fries too. why don't my boys love themselves
> 
> enjoy the chapter! : )
> 
> \---
> 
> "if you're right here, why do i miss you so much?" - _stars_ , fun.

Kei isn't stupid. He realizes there's something wrong with Yamaguchi. With those hollow smiles, hollow laughs, hollow conversations - how is he supposed to  _not_ notice?

He can't put his finger on when it started. Somewhere around two weeks ago, or somewhere before that. He hasn't been paying enough attention to know, which is frustrating because paying attention is what he  _does_. But between Kuroo and volleyball, he hasn't had room to think the way he's used to. It's ironic because it feels like everyone was telling him that that was his problem, that he thinks too much instead of just acting, but the second he lets his guard down, he's blindsided by Yamaguchi, or something somewhere in the vicinity of Yamaguchi.

There are some things Kei remembers from before it hit him, passing observations that he had shrugged off to the kind of Yamaguchi-strangeness that sometimes crops up but always goes away: incredible nervousness, meaningless words coming out a mile a minute, a weird fixation on spending time with him even though they spend most of their day together anyway. His mother has made sure that Kei is acutely aware of the fact that he is at the age where people spontaneously start acting oddly, and it's something he's found to be the truth. Out-of-nowhere arguments between Hinata and Kageyama, all of Yachi. Something about puberty and hormones and insecurities; Kei can't be bothered to find out the root of something so temporary. 

Yamaguchi, for a long time, has been the type of person who was able to work out his problems by himself; it's why they've been able to be friends so long. When Yamaguchi was feeling like a burden to the team, he sought out Shimada and mastered jump floats, on his own time. When he failed his pinch serve against Aobajohsai, even though he seemed upset, he was able to get through it with no intervention on Kei's part. At one point, Kei remembers Shimada encouraging him, and he’s sure that helped, but he's also sure that with enough time, Yamaguchi would have been fine anyway. While Yamaguchi doesn't have thick skin - Kei is knows that things that hurt him, even some things he says to him - he has something like a rapid recovery rate. Kei has seen Yamaguchi flinch at something careless that he's said, but he's also seen him laughing a second later, shrugging it off without a thought.

It's something like an understanding they have: that sometimes Kei says things that might hurt, or sometimes Kei doesn't say anything when someone else would, but Yamaguchi doesn't mind because he knows it doesn't really matter, that Kei likes him a lot more than most people, anyway.

But Yamaguchi's recovery rate has stalled, and it's like that understanding never existed. Whenever Kei speaks, Yamaguchi flinches. Whenever Kei tries to start a conversation, Yamaguchi shuts it down. Whenever they're together and he can help it, Yamaguchi finds reasons to be somewhere else. Kei doesn't know what's happening. It's like Yamaguchi's been abducted by aliens and replaced with a badly-functioning carbon copy. The staring, the silences, all of it - Kei knows that it isn't who Yamaguchi is. Yamaguchi is the kind of person who likes to talk and laugh and knows that he shouldn't think too much when Kei's involved. Yamaguchi is the person who's been friends with him for years.

And Kei knows it isn't just him. Yamaguchi is so off that the rest of the team has started noticing. Kei sees them, with all their attempts to make him feel better; the "Keep working hard!"s and the "Great serve!"s and the invitations that he'd seen even Yamaguchi bewildered by. But it isn't working. Even when Yamaguchi is with them, he talks much less than he used to, just sitting there and listening and speaking when he's spoken to. He acts less nervous around them, smiling and laughing when he should, but it's outrageously artificial. Even from the distance he's at, Kei can tell. Yamaguchi is like some kind of sponge - soaking in everything around him, but unable to give anything in return - and it's irritating because Kei knows he's more than that. Yamaguchi is the kind of person to give  _everything_.

Kei doesn't like to admit it, but the rest of the team realized that something was wrong with Yamaguchi before he even had an inkling. It'd taken Yachi spending time with Yamaguchi for Kei to realize that Yamaguchi was any different. That Yachi noticed before him is a little bit shameful, but he's glad, at least, that someone stepped in at all. Kei isn't good at handling these kinds of situations, and Yachi's been helpful; when he asked her to help tutor Yamaguchi in math because he didn't have the time to (and he's not sure Yamaguchi would want him to tutor him anymore, anyway), she agreed without asking him anything about it, although there was a way that she looked at him that irritated him to his core.

That look... It's a look people have been sending his way constantly, lately, and Kei can't stand it. It's a look like you're looking at a natural disaster; not hate or bitterness but sheer horror from the damning knowledge that in its wake, you're helpless. It makes Kei feel a little bitter; "force of nature" is only a compliment regarding athletics, he guesses.

Kei knows that they think it's his fault. 

Kei  _knows_  they think it's his fault, and it's worse because he knows they don't blame him. They think Kei did something exceptionally careless to Yamaguchi and now they just don't speak about it, that Kei accidentally began an argument but didn't even realize it, or that Yamaguchi just can't deal with him anymore. They think Kei broke Yamaguchi by being himself, and even worse than that, they think he doesn't even realize it. The person he's known since grade school is falling apart in front of his eyes and they think that he hasn't even noticed. 

It feels disgusting, but even more than that, it's frustrating, because it's true he hadn't realized earlier. Still, even now, he  _can't_  pinpoint what it was that made Yamaguchi start acting like this. He doesn't even know when it started, and he can't think of a time he was more careless with Yamaguchi than he usually is. Even when he just started to realize something was wrong with Yamaguchi, he started being more careful around him, but it hadn't done a thing. If it is Kei's fault, like everyone thinks it is, what was it?  _What did he do_?

...No. The truth is, Kei doesn't really mind being blamed, whether it was his fault or not. He doesn't mind that most of Karasuno dances around him because they think a single misstep will shatter Kei's obliviousness and make everything come crashing down. 

What Kei minds is  _Yamaguchi_  acting like he's oblivious, Yamaguchi and his half-assed excuses and his forlorn staring and his glaring silences. Yamaguchi doesn't dance, but Yamaguchi also barely tries; he does less than the bare minimum to seem normal and acts like Kei can't see a thing. It's almost insulting. Kei thought he knew him better than that, that he'd know Yamaguchi's well-being isn't something he doesn't care about and or pay attention to. He thought Yamaguchi knew that he was important to him, too important to be covered up by half-assed lies.

Well, Kei thought a lot of things.

* * *

Kei leaves his house early, before Kuroo even texts him his daily  _Morning Tsukki~_ and a reminder to eat breakfast. Kuroo treats him like a child sometimes, and Kei would find it irritating, but he knows that Kuroo's constant texting and reminders are just his way of showing concern for him, which is what you're supposed to do in relationships. Kei doesn't mind letting it slide; he lets most of what Kuroo does slide ( _just like he used to for Yamaguchi_ ), so one more thing doesn't matter. Anyway, he has other things on his mind.

When he steps out of his front gate, he slips on his headphones and walks, the music barely registering in his ears. He's been listening to the same album so long it's like he can't even hear it anymore, but it's too much work to change it. He'll deal with what he has.

By now, he's used to walking to school alone. He does a lot of things he used to do with other people alone now, and although it can feel empty, it's not exactly a difficult transition. He's always liked being by himself, so doing it more isn't much of a problem. Anyway, Kei knows that even though Yamaguchi's not completely fine around Hinata and Yachi, he's a lot more at ease around them, and they're actively trying to help him. Holding on to Yamaguchi instead of moving over would probably hurt Yamaguchi more than it would help Kei, even if he doesn't like seeing the look in his mother's eyes when she asks why Yamaguchi doesn't come by in the mornings anymore.

Kei's thinking about this when he turns a corner, and just for a second, catches sight of Yamaguchi trailing half a block behind him, walking carefully and refusing to look straight ahead. Something like hate starts flooding into his system, turning the blood in his veins to ice. His last train of thought completely disappears.

How long, he wonders, has Yamaguchi been walking behind him? How long has he been trying to keep his steps quiet and stand right out of Kei's line of sight? When he saw Kei step past his front gate and into the sidewalk, did he get nervous, the same way he always does whenever Kei turns to look at him? Did he leave early today just to avoid the situation they're in now? Is being with Kei that horrible, that Yamaguchi has to resort to this? Why does that thought  _irritate_  him so much?

( _Why does Yamaguchi prefer to be with no one than to be with him_?)

Kei almost stops walking, almost decides to stand there and wait until Yamaguchi has no choice but to pass him on the street, almost forces a conversation, but it's only an almost. That kind of thing isn't really his style, and he knows a lot about wanting to be alone. Yamaguchi always keeps his distance when Kei doesn't have the energy to speak, and even if it's not characteristic of Yamaguchi to not want to speak to people, they're at the age where things change, anyway, and he knows Yamaguchi is changing. Kei won't bother someone who doesn’t want to be bothered.

Kei turns up the volume on his headphones and keeps it that way for the rest of the walk to school, drowning out any thoughts of the person behind him.

By the time Kei gets to the gym, it's still too early for Daichi to be there. With nowhere else to go - Daichi would be there soon, anyway - he sits on the stairs at doorstep, hands folded, his knees sticking out uncomfortably far. He's staring at the ground when he hears something shuffling next to him and turns, only to find Yamaguchi at his side.

"Morning, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, his voice too low and his smile too thin.

Kei pulls the wire out of his headphone jack and lowers his headphones to his neck, keeping eye contact with Yamaguchi. "Morning, Yamaguchi," Kei says, and he plays with the idea of saying something like "I didn't see you on the way to school this morning," but he thinks better of it. He likes pushing people's buttons, but it's  _Yamaguchi_. Even though he can be irritating, Kei would never treat him like that purposely.

Yamaguchi keeps smiling at him, and then he looks up at the sky. For a moment, Kei thinks he sees something, but then he realizes Yamaguchi just wants to stop looking at him. He's run out of things to say.

Before, whenever Kei became too exhausted, if Kei didn't ask him to leave, Yamaguchi would sit with him silently. He'd stay with him even if they had nothing to talk about because, to Yamaguchi, that was the way friendship worked. But this is a different kind of silence; Kei can feel it to his very core. He knows it's bad. He used to mistake these silences for those comfortable ones they used to share, but he was distracted then. Kei knows Yamaguchi isn't happy.

Yamaguchi isn't happy, but he's still sitting with him.

( _Because he has no other choice. Because there's nowhere else to go. Because he felt bad about ignoring you the entire way here._ )

There are lines on Yamaguchi's face and circles underneath his eyes. It's almost astounding, Kei thinks, how tired a high-schooler can look. He knows Yamaguchi's always had some kind of insomnia, from the nights he used to toss and turn on the floor of Kei's bedroom, but he somehow looks worse now than he ever has. He's always thought Yamaguchi was steadily getting better with time, healthier and less awkward and happier, but now it's as if he's completely regressed, back to the boy he saw crying on the playground years ago.

It strikes Kei, in that moment more than ever, that Yamaguchi isn't okay.

"You've been acting strangely lately," Kei finally says, because he's sick of pretending and lying and everything but also because it's been  _weeks_  and Yamaguchi  _still_  isn't okay and  _he doesn't know what to do_. "Did something happen?"

Yamaguchi visibly stiffens, the leg he'd been jiggling suddenly frozen. His eyes widen and his mouth opens, and for a second, he doesn't say anything. His eyes shift to Kei, just for a moment, and then he lowers his head and stares at his feet.  "Ah... I... I..." he chokes out, and then stops. Kei doesn't say anything, and after a moment, Yamaguchi breathes in deeply and meets Kei's eyes. His irises are darker than Kei's ever seen. "I don't know what you mean, Tsukki."

It stings like an ice burn on raw skin. 

Kei feels himself at an impasse then; he didn't have a plan for what he'd say if Yamaguchi opened up to him, so with Yamaguchi lying to his face... He should've known, really. Acting on impulse is never a good idea. For a moment Kei just stares at Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi stares at his feet.

Kei's phone buzzes and Yamaguchi smiles weakly, turning to look at him. "You should answer that," he says, starting to stand up. "I'm... going to buy Potari Sweat. D-Do you... want anything?"

"No," Kei replies, and as he stares at Yamaguchi's retreating back, he thinks that this shouldn't surprise him.

To Kei, Yamaguchi has always been disappearing. When they met, Yamaguchi was one of the loudest kids Kei had ever met. His face would light up with excitement and he'd  _never_ stop talking. It irritated Kei in the beginning, but Yamaguchi idolized his brother and he liked to have someone to talk to about Akiteru. And Yamaguchi stayed, for however Kei treated him; when Kei would be too mean, he'd just laugh, which was a... new feeling, for Kei. Yamaguchi would invite himself over every day when they were kids, and even when Kei was too tired to talk, Yamaguchi would have no problem talking for both of them or sitting with him in his room in silence. Back then, Yamaguchi had a lot of problems, but when it came to being friends with Kei, he never worried for a second.

As they grew up, Kei noticed Yamaguchi getting more and more insecure around him, more and more worried about what he thought were Kei's boundaries, not even remembering that he'd broken them down before. It was only a year or so ago that Kei's words ever started to hurt him. And… Yamaguchi rarely comes over to his house now, and before rarely it was monthly, and before monthly it was weekly.

So of course Kei lets him walk away, now and before and always, with his flimsy excuses or the other first-years, no matter how he feels about it. Of course he'll let him leave. This is the way that things have been happening, and this is the way things are supposed to be. Kei isn't Yamaguchi; he can't run after him the way that he did for him in Tokyo. What happened just now proves it.

There are things Kei knows he can't do, and he refuses to hurt people by trying.

* * *

Kei wipes his mouth with his forearm and backs up until he's leaning against the wall. Kuroo flashes him a smirk, and Kei groans inwardly.

"Your cheeks are red," Kuroo sings as he positions himself on his bed so they're sitting side by side. He leans into Kei's shoulder. "Who knew four-eyes could be so cute?" Kei wrinkles his nose and scoots over, and Kuroo laughs lightly. "Ah, he's already gone. You know, they say if you always make the same face, it'll freeze that way. Though I guess nothing would change for you." He grins a little and turns facing forward, leaning his head back until he hits the wall with a thunk.

"Don't hurt yourself," Kei comments, and Kuroo laughs.

"Are you worried about me? Aw," he says, still looking forward, but he's not really paying attention. If he was, Kei knows he'd be making a big deal about what he said. Leaning back, Kuroo yawns and stretches his arms out, narrowly missing Kei's face. "But... I'm tired of staring at my bedroom wall. I'm not only with you for your body, you know." Kuroo elbows Kei's shoulder when he says that, and turns his head to look at him and grins. "We're young, aren't we? Let's go on a date, like couples do. No one around here knows you, anyway."

Kuroo has a point, Kei thinks. They're acting more like paramours than boyfriends, though Kei honestly thinks Kuroo is less taking issue with relationship status semantics and more just bored. Not that what they do is boring, only... a little monotonous, maybe, if Kuroo really is with Kei for a reason other than his body. Though it's not as if Kei ever doubted that; if Kuroo only cared about attractiveness, he's sure there are dozens of people he would have picked before him.

About going out... Kei knows Kuroo isn't the type of person to be interested in PDA, which is the only thing that would make him draw the hard line other than someone from Karasuno seeing him. Even if someone from Nekoma saw them, Kuroo's too intimidating to be made fun of, and Kei doubts the information would get back to Karasuno. Anyway, at this point it's probably strange they haven't been on a date yet, though Kuroo would know how relationships work more than he does. With things like this, Kei is fine letting him take the lead.

"I don't mind," Kei says, and he sees Kuroo's face light up. Kuroo sits forward, and then shifts so he's facing him.

"Really?" Kuroo asks, eyes wide like he didn't expect him to say yes at all. Kei guesses it might be a little strange, but he doesn't mind most of the things he used to mind, lately. Maybe bigger problems make the smaller things turn into nothing. "Ah, if we're going out, we should get something to eat." Kuroo eyes Kei so blatantly that Kei gets the urge to draw his knees to his chest. "You're too skinny. If you get any taller, you might stretch so thin we won't be able to see you anymore."

"Is that how that works?" Kei is glad, though, that there wasn't anything inappropriate behind the look. It'd be weird turn for the situation to take, considering what they've been talking about.

Kuroo hops off his bed, and Kei does the same, albeit slower. "Of course it is." When Kei is standing next to him, Kuroo leans over and presses his lips to Kei's forehead. Kei thinks that he's probably one of the only people he knows who could reach. "You're so cute, Tsukki." 

Kei feels his mouth narrow at the corners and his nose wrinkle. "That's disgusting," he says, and Kuroo lightly taps the back of his head.

"Hey, don't be rude to your upperclassman," he scolds him as he leads him out of his bedroom.

Kei doesn't change his expression. "I'd consider you my rival before my upperclassman," he comments dryly. "Since we don't even go to the same school."

"I'd consider you my boyfriend before I'd call you my rival, since that's what you are," Kuroo mocks him, holding open the door of his house. For half a second, Kei pauses, but he doesn't think Kuroo's paying enough attention to realize. Kei passes through the doorway. "Though you're also my shitty, grouchy protege. What is it that orange-haired shorty calls you?  _Shittyshima_." Kuroo laughs.

Kei doesn't reply for a while, thinking over what Kuroo said. Not the Shittyshima thing - he hears that a lot (though less than he used to, because of the whole thing with Yamaguchi, but he tries not to think about Miyagi when he's in Tokyo), but what he said before it. It's not the first time Kuroo's called him "boyfriend" - when he confirmed with Kei that what they had was an actual relationship, a couple times in passing after that - but it's still weird, every time he says it, because it doesn't seem like a word that should be referring to  _him_. It's strange that whatever he's doing with Kuroo is something that he's able to do.

Kei knows it isn't really  _momentous_ , because spending his days off with someone and texting them regularly isn't something he's never done before. Well, the texting, maybe, but that's only out of necessity; if he ignored all of Kuroo's texts, they'd never talk at all. There's the physical aspect, but that's something completely different. 

If he treated it like a big new accomplishment, a new boundary crushed, it wouldn't be completely right. His relationship with Kuroo is like bowling with the gutters up; everywhere Kei does something wrong, Kuroo makes up for it, while doing his own share of work. Calling him boyfriend, calling him cute; Kei knows that Kuroo's aware of the fact that these words won't stop Kei from still being Kei, and they won't magically make him able to do things he couldn't before, but somehow, he's still okay with that. Maybe that's what's so strange about hearing Kuroo say "boyfriend" - even though this isn't a relationship in the real sense of the word, Kuroo still thinks of it that way. It's... a nice thought.

Kei glances at Kuroo and smirks. "That's an awful thing to call your boyfriend, isn't it?"

Kuroo lights up when he says the word, but only slightly. A devious grin splits open his face. "So you'd prefer something else, then? Honey? Sweetie?  _Darling_? Oh, Tsukki-darling-" Kuroo starts to wax, and Kei cuts him off.

"Somehow, when you say those things, they sound absolutely disgusting," Kei retorts, his voice dripping with pleasant vitriol.

Kuroo's hand lands on Kei's shoulder. "Tsukki-darling, you wound me." When Kei doesn't grant him a reply, Kuroo squeezes his shoulder and grunts. "You know, you're too bony. I'm scared of cutting my palm open on your shoulders. When we eat, I'm making sure you fill up." 

"I told you I ate on the train," Kei says, but he doesn't really pay the comment any mind. He's been with Kuroo long enough to realize that worrying about nothing is his nature. 

It's odd, because Kei knows a part of him normally would mind, but Kuroo worrying about him lights something in his chest, faintly reminiscent of the rising feeling he gets whenever Kuroo plays volleyball or says something that even Kei can't deny is cool, usually about volleyball but really about anything. When Kuroo gets serious - and even something like worrying about Kei counts a little bit as "serious" - it's like an aura starts surrounding him, and just seeing it causes this odd kind of rising in his chest that makes Kei feel like someone else.

Kei can't describe the feeling, really. He's never tried to describe it to Kuroo - his head is inflated enough as it is - but he thinks that if he did, Kuroo might tell him it's love. He'd be annoying about it, but Kei thinks that he'd still be right. At the very least, it must be something similar. Kei has never been a romantic, but somehow love is the first thought that comes to his mind when he thinks about that feeling, even if it doesn't make him want to act like the people in the soaps he used to watch with Yamaguchi when it was his turn to pick the show. Kei knows television is only an approximation of real life, and he's only an approximation of a normal person, anyway. It makes sense, really, that the way it feels would be different for him, even if the feeling makes Kei feel like he's... not himself, somehow.

There's something about Kuroo that makes Kei act like a different person. A part of him says that that's just a symptom of being in love, to whatever extent Kei is in love, but there's something else to it as well. Being with Kuroo is alleviating, somehow. The things Kei would normally be annoyed by he doesn't mind, and things Kei would normally be cautious about he just dives into, without thinking about the consequences. When Kuroo told him he thought they'd be a good couple and asked if he could kiss him, Kei just said yes, and he doesn't regret it. Even if he messes up, Kuroo doesn't mind taking care of it. Being able to trust someone the way he does Kuroo is a feeling that's definitely foreign, yet somehow... faintly familiar. That makes sense to Kei, really; Kuroo is the most contradictory person he knows, somehow.

A tug on the back of his shirt pulls Kei out of his thoughts, which is probably for the better. They were taking a turn for the saccharine, and if Kuroo even got the slightest hint about what Kei was thinking about, he wouldn't let it go. "Hey, pay attention," Kuroo says. "It's around the corner." He points out an eatery halfway down the block that they get to in about a minute. 

It's a large place, but nothing fancy; silver racks with individually wrapped breads and sandwiches, a display case filled with pastries, and a heated countertop oven filled with meat buns and hot dogs. It's the kind of place office workers stop by for a coffee and a quick, no-fuss lunch and student stop by after school if they're hungry. Kei's glad Kuroo chose somewhere so casual, though he'd never expect fancy from a person like him; it's a little less pressure, which Kei appreciates.

Kuroo tells him to choose something and he'll buy it for him and wanders over to the oven while Kei notes that the line at the cashier is nearly empty. It's an opening Kei takes advantage of; he isn't really hungry and doesn't like forcing down real food when he doesn't have to. He orders a slice of strawberry shortcake and then rethinks it and orders two; it seems like the type of thing you should do on a date, and Kuroo does a lot for him anyway.

Kei is paying for the cakes when Kuroo comes over and glances at the tray he's holding. "Eh, Tsukki, you're such a problem child, aren't you? If you were on my team, I'd be making your life hell." Before Kei can reply, he cackles and walks away, and Kei decides to find a table by the window and deal with him later.

He's on his second bite of cake when Kuroo sits across from him and pulls it away from him. 

Shoving a meat bun in his face, Kuroo says, "Eat your protein, or you're gonna be skinny forever." Kei scowls, but he still takes it from him; even if he's not that hungry, he doesn't dislike meat buns, and he knows if he keeps pushing it Kuroo might really get irritated. It rarely happens, but Kei's well-being is one of Kuroo's buttons, and he knows from experience that he doesn't take jokes about it lightly.

After swallowing, Kei comments, "You know, I already have a mother," but Kuroo doesn't seem to mind, only grinning at Kei in-between bites. He's probably just happy he complied.

Kei decides to stop talking and eat. and when he's polished off the meat bun, Kuroo slides the cake back to him.

"You can have this now," Kuroo says plainly, deciding not to rub it in. It's something like that, Kei thinks, that's why it doesn't bother him that Kuroo gets like this sometimes. He does things like this - things that mirror a parent and their kid almost exactly - but somehow does it without being patronizing. It's like when Nishinoya or Daichi insist that he eat during training camps - it gets annoying, sometimes, but it's not a thinly-veiled jab at his physique or anything of that nature. They genuinely want him to be healthier. And that's multiplied a thousand times when it comes to Kuroo.

Kei decides to cut off that train of thought before it gets too sappy, and reaches into the paper bag for the other slice of cake he bought earlier. "I got this for you."

"Aw," Kuroo says, and he's really smiling then, not joking or being clever or condescending. Kei feels it faintly, just for a second, a warm swirling in his chest, but it goes away just as fast. Kuroo wrinkles his nose a little, though the smile doesn't leave his face. "Ah, but... you should take it home. It'd be wasted on me, you know? I hate sweet things." He bites the inside of his lip. "Thanks, Tsukki, but I’d rather not."

* * *

Kei takes a swig from his water bottle and closes his eyes. He hasn't felt like this in a while; he'd gotten used to the easy pace of the games with the Neighborhood Association, and even though he still works himself to the bone during practice, there's nothing you can do in normal practice that can match the rush you get when you play against a real team, especially since that team is Nekoma.

He'd felt something like anxiety when he heard about the practice game with Nekoma the first time. Thinking about it was overwhelming, initially. He'd gotten used to keeping all his problems in Miyagi completely separate from what he has in Tokyo, and he was afraid it would feel off, somehow, to have them come together. But the fears were completely baseless, which, in retrospect, is something Kei should have anticipated; volleyball is bigger than all of them, bigger than pity, than falling apart, than empty silences. For that one game, Kei felt like everything was just like how it used to be.

And... they won, and there's not much that can beat that high.

"Hi, Tsukki," Kei hears a familiar quiet voice say next to him, and he sees Yamaguchi to his side, fiddling with something in his bag. "That was a good game."

Yamaguchi is still speaking too low, but Kei doesn't mind it. After all, since Yamaguchi's been like this consistently since then, it might just be that he's changing, and Kei won't deny him the right to change. "Yeah," he says. Yamaguchi did particularly well. The times they called him in, he never failed to score. He really has gotten better; more confident, less nervous (though, that only applies to volleyball). It might have something to do with the positive reinforcement, but Kei thinks it has more to do with that Yamaguchi's been becoming even more serious about volleyball lately.

Another time, Kei might've thought about pointing it out, Yamaguchi's improvement, but he thinks better of it now. Yamaguchi usually looks uncomfortable when the team heaps praises on him, especially recently. If it came from Kei, considering the way Yamaguchi's been acting around him, his reaction would probably be even worse.

For a while, Kei watches Yamaguchi drink water, and neither of them say anything. These days, Kei can't tell the difference between comfortable and uncomfortable silences; there's only the one silence that's been the norm for a while. Yamaguchi doesn't look okay during them, but he hasn't looked okay for a while. He's just glad to have him with him, during the times that he's there.

"Hey, Tsukki!" a voice calls from behind Kei. He turns his head and Kuroo is next to him, grinning and somehow looking down on him even though he's taller. Ah, Kei forgot that Kuroo would definitely come after him, especially after a match like that. "You better not get cocky. We're taking that win back at Nationals."

"You should. It's kind of sad if you keep losing to the person you trained, right?" Kei smiles politely. Kuroo makes a face at him, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Kei barely holds back a laugh. "What's with that face? You look like a dying fish."

Kuroo's mouth widens into an exaggerated frown. "Eh, you're an awful kid, you know?"

"At least I'm not awful at volleyball," Kei replies, the smile not escaping his face. 

Kuroo swats him on the back of the head, too light for it to hurt. "Hey, don't forgot who helped you get there."

Kei tilts his head and pretends to think for a second. "You're right. If I hadn't practiced so much against Bokuto, I don't think I would have played half as well today," he replies. "You know, he's one of the top spikers in the country."

Kuroo grins. "Keep talking like that, and I'll tell that guy what you're saying about him. Next time he sees you, he won't leave you alone."  

Kei feels his mouth twist. Bokuto's a loud, egotistical character already, and at the thought of him constantly bringing up the one time he complimented him just to spite Kuroo sends shudders down his spine. 

"Oho, now who's the one with a terrible face? I told you not to get cocky," Kuroo says, laughing openly. Kei is scowling and thinking of fitting retort when Kuroo sees something behind him and moves over. "Hey, I didn't see you before. This guy's height is terrible." He gestures to Kei with a tilt of his head. "You're the pinch server, right? I've never seen you play until today. You did well. Come to think of it, that's... what, Karasuno's third secret weapon?" He laughs. "Try all you want, but nothing you come up with will beat Kenma." He pauses a second, and then speaks again. "Ah, no offense."

...That's right, Kei thinks. Yamaguchi's been standing behind him.

"D-Didn't... Didn't we... win?" Yamaguchi's voice is nearly inaudible, his eyes wide and his hands clutching his water bottle at his chest. Everything about him betrays the aggressive tone his words should imply. When he finishes speaking, he flinches and steps back, just a little, his mouth opening and closing like even he's surprised by the words he's said.

Kuroo's eyebrows furrow. Confusion is plain on his face, which Kei understands. The words Yamaguchi just said are uncharacteristically spiteful; even though Yamaguchi is happy when they win, he's never been the type to rub it in the loser's face. Coupled with the nervous attitude Yamaguchi is displaying... these days, Kei can't understand him like he used to. Even if Kuroo's the master of provocation, if Kei can't read him, he doubts Kuroo can. "Uh... You did, but..."

If he were speaking to anyone else, Kuroo would go on the aggressive immediately, saying something about how they only just barely won and next time, but Yamaguchi seems... fragile, now. He's probably afraid of what being aggressive will do to him. It's a fear Kei's familiar with. He feels like he should say something to Yamaguchi, but he doesn't know what.

Yamaguchi's gaze shifts to the floor, and he rubs the back of his neck. "S-Sorry. I told Yachi I'd... help her with something, so..." Without waiting for a reply, he turns around and walks away.

"Yamaguchi," Kei says, but Yamaguchi either doesn't hear it or ignores him, which he knows he shouldn't mind. He doesn't know what he would have said after that, anyway.

Kei feels Kuroo's eyes focus on him, and when he makes eye contact, he notices that Kuroo is looking at him strangely. "Yamaguchi?" Kuroo repeats, and Kei nods. He's not sure what he's asking. " _That's_  Yamaguchi?"

Kei feels his eyebrows furrow. "Why? I told you who he was before." 

"Brown hair, a little shorter than you, and not a regular, right?" Kuroo asks, his hand grasping his chin. "I thought he was the one with the neat haircut and the pleasant face."

"Yamaguchi has a pleasant face," Kei says, "but you're thinking of Ennoshita. We aren't especially close."

"Oh," Kuroo says, but he isn't satisfied. Cocking his head to the side, his face scrunched up, he clarifies, "Ah, but...  _that's_  Yamaguchi?"

"It is," Kei replies curtly, starting to lose his patience. "Why are you so shocked?" There's no reason for Kuroo to make such a big deal about who Yamaguchi is or isn't; he rarely talks to him about Yamaguchi, except mentioning him in passing as his friend or the person he's with when Kuroo asks what he's doing.

Kuroo chews on the inside of his lip. "It's just, ah..." He hesitates for a second. "Yamaguchi is your  _friend_ , isn't he?"

Something starts to rise in Kei, but it isn't pleasant or warm. It's feeling like the one he gets when his teammates at Karasuno  _look_ at him when they think he can't see, when Yamaguchi refuses to meet his eyes during a conversation, when his mother frowns as she sees him off to school alone.

For the first time since their relationship began, one of Kuroo's comments has gotten him truly, awfully  _pissed_.

But how is he not supposed to be? What the hell is he implying? Who the hell is Kuroo, to waltz in and try to tell Kei who does and who doesn't care about him, off of- what? A minute-long interaction? Karasuno is bad, but at least they know what he and Yamaguchi are like. Kuroo didn't even know who Yamaguchi was. And even if Yamaguchi's been colder lately, and even if he's been avoiding him, and even if Kei can't remember the last time they had a real conversation, Yamaguchi is still his friend. And whatever Kuroo does for Kei, whatever legitimacy there is to the point he's making, it doesn't mean- it doesn't mean Kei will stand here and listen to him criticize Yamaguchi. 

Are they  _friends_? Of course he's friends with the little freckled boy he met on a playground in grade school. No matter what happens - no matter how distant, how cold, how quiet Yamaguchi gets - he doesn't intend to ever stop.

Kei notices his hands are clenched into fists. "Of course he is," he says, smiling politely.

"Huh..." Kuroo scrunches his mouth, and Kei thinks to himself that if Kuroo keeps acting like this, he might really lose his temper. After a moment, Kuroo speaks, his voice even. "I know it isn't like you, Tsukki, but if you're friends... shouldn't you act like it?"

Everything that had been building up in Kei evaporates. He closes his eyes, slowly, and opens them again.

A moment of silence passes, and then Kuroo, unfazed, smiles and says, "Ah, but that's not why I came to talk to you." He leans forward. "There's no class tomorrow, right? You should stay, since you're here already. You've never been here overnight. There's so much time; we could do anything. We always just eat, don't we? We could-"

Kei should meet Kuroo's eyes, but he feels like he can't see him at all. "If I stay, they'll ask why."

"Ah, you could come up with some excuse. Like I'm keeping you for training. They know we're friends. I'm sure-"

"I can't," Kei says and walks away. Faintly, he hears Kuroo say his name, but he doesn't turn around.

On the bus ride back, Yamaguchi is sitting next to Yachi and Kei's phone is turned off.

* * *

Kei's record for throwing and returning a volleyball against the backboard in his backyard is forty-four times, but he's certain he'll beat it today. His arms feel like they're on fire.

Kuroo texted him this morning ( _you better eat breakfast~_ ) and Kei didn't answer. It's night now, and Kuroo has texted him once since then. ( _Tsukki, are you okay?_ ) Kei hasn't answered that one, either. Today, Yamaguchi ate half his lunch with him, until Hinata and Kageyama came looking. That's longer than he usually spends with him, but they still didn't speak.

Sometimes it's hard to see the headboard. He should have changed into his sport glasses. 

Kuroo texted him yesterday, too, ( _morning, Tsukki!_ ) and the day before that ( _did i piss you off? if you tell me what i did, i'll try not to do it again_ ). Kei hasn't answered either of them. Yesterday, he spent all day watching nature documentaries and doing grocery shopping for his mother. This morning, she asked him where he goes on the Sundays he's not home and he told her it's not to Yamaguchi's. She didn't say anything, but he could tell she was unhappy.

There's a soreness in his palms and he feels something like a headache coming on. He slept at 4 AM last night. There was a special on anglerfish. He shouldn't have watched it.

One time, when they were kids, Yamaguchi watched a Godzilla movie with him in his living room at night. He said he was tired of watching documentaries and Godzilla was a dinosaur anyway, so they'd both like it. Kei let him play the movie, and he got so scared that Kei had to let him sleep with him in his bed that night. It wasn't even a horror movie.

The reason Yamaguchi slept over every other night when they were kids was because his mother works until the early morning. Kei heard his own mother tell Akiteru this over dinner; Yamaguchi never said anything about it. But after he heard it, Kei thought it made sense.

The ball bounces off the backboard too fast and it almost hits Kei in the face, but he sends it back just in time. He doesn't know how many times he's bounced it off in a row. He forgot to count. He thinks he's beaten his record, though.

There are times Kei's ignored Kuroo's texts, but it's never been this long, and never after one of them is annoyed. He wonders if this counts as a fight. He doesn't think it is, but Kuroo might think different. It doesn't matter. The point of Kuroo is that he is different.

Today in class, Tsukishima couldn't understand anything. He-

"Kei, what are you still doing out here? Isn't that what you spend so long doing at school? You shouldn't be too much like your brother." 

His mother is standing at the back door, and Kei can see stress in the lines of her face. He decides to stop; his record is beaten anyway. He walks back into the house, nodding at his mother as he passes.

"Don't stay up late like you did last night. It's unhealthy."

Kei grunts in agreement.

"Good night." As he closes his door, he flashes her a small smile.

When Kei wakes up, there's a new text message on his phone ( _i'll give you space for a while. if you want to talk, let me know_ ). He doesn't reply.

* * *

A week passes, and Kei keeps busy. He dives into volleyball and schoolwork, working until he's too tired to think. He tries not to think lately; everyone says he thinks too much, anyway, and they're right. He's better off like this.

It's on the verge of evening, and Kei's in his room, completing an assignment that won't be due for a week. His cell phone is tucked away in a drawer; he doesn't like looking at it. It feels like it's taunting him. He knows that he should speak to Kuroo, that what he's doing isn't what boyfriends do, that Kuroo would never do something like this to him, but he can't make himself do anything. If he calls Kuroo, if he tries to talk to him, he might be angry or worse - he won't be angry, but he'll try to talk to him about what happened. Kei doesn't have an excuse. Kei doesn't even-

But there's a part of him that says he shouldn't bother. It doesn't matter anyway. They weren't really boyfriends, and Kei will always be Kei. Even if Kuroo is willing to do all these things for him now, to forgive him now, he'll eventually get tired of it, and Kei won't be able to do a thing. He can't stop being himself. This is the way relationships are with him; he's used to it. So what if he'll be ending whatever he has with Kuroo vaguely and strangely? Trying to fix things would only be pointlessly prolonging the inevitable.

( _Then, with Yamaguchi-_ )

Kei's mechanical pencil snaps, and he tsks, moving his thumb to push the lead out through his eraser. He's working ahead to do the assignment he's doing now, and from the difficulty he's having, he thinks he knows why it's not due yet. He grasps concepts immediately when he hears them explained to him in class, but he's never been fond of squinting at textbooks. Part of him wants to just give up and go to the living room and watch nature documentaries - he's at the point where he can afford to waste multiple afternoons - but if he does, his mother will talk to him when she gets home. As much as he likes her, it's been hard to speak to her lately. If he focuses on schoolwork, he can make her happy without having to talk to her.

He's on the verge of making the problem he's working on make sense when his phone goes off. He reaches for it immediately; Daichi had been unsure about coming to practice tomorrow because he had something to do, so he's been expecting a text. But it's not from Daichi.

It's from Kuroo.

Apprehension floods into Kei's system. The last thing Kuroo said was that he would give him space, so he thought it'd be up to him to speak next. That he's texting him now is - concerning. Kuroo is always cautious when he's afraid he might actually irritate Kei, so if he's messaging him now, it might be that he's... really tired of doing these things for him. He's been prepared to never speak to Kuroo like that again, but if Kuroo's outright saying it to him, that he doesn't like him anymore, he doesn't want to see it. He can deal with things ending in silence, but hearing something like that is-

He puts his phone down and tries to do schoolwork, but the numbers are swirling and he can't focus. He wants to get up, grab the volleyball at his desk and bounce it off the hoop in his backyard, go sit on the couch and spend the next four hours thinking about blue whales and tiger sharks, but overwhelmingly, he knows he can't do that again. Or- he doesn't _want_ to do that again, to spend days obsessing over things he can't handle thinking about and make his mother worry. He tries to rationalize it; if he reads it, he doesn't have to answer, and he knows Kuroo won't expect it, given his track record. It'll be nothing but a reaffirmation of what he already knows. He can handle it.

He reaches for his phone and opens the text ( _if you're pissed off because of what i said about you and yamaguchi, you never talk to me about him. i don't know what your relationship is like. i shouldn't have said anything. sorry, tsukki_ ), and he doesn't know what to do. 

" _If you're friends, shouldn't you act like it?"_

Kei can remember it like it happened yesterday and he doesn't even want to. It was just a question, and Kuroo says a million things to him every day of his life, but it's so much  _more_  somehow, in the worst sense. He hates it, that Kuroo is just as observant as him, that in just a second he pinpointed what Kei tried not to see for weeks and said it to his face.

It's Kei's fault.

It's Kei's fault that Yamaguchi is like this, and he can't even do anything to help him.

He closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind. He's known this, the past week and a half, ever since Kuroo said this to him. Even if he tried not to think about it, he's known this. Or- It's been longer than a week and a half. For years, maybe, he's known that Yamaguchi deserves a better friend than him. No, Yamaguchi  _needs_  a better friend than him. Or, not better, but... different. Yamaguchi and his needs and Kei and his [limitations](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etQnumOL9KM) just aren't compatible. Kei can't do the things that will stop Yamaguchi from falling apart.

When they were kids, Yamaguchi was constantly bullied. Even before Kei stopped those kids in the playground, it'd been something that had always been in his peripheral; Yamaguchi being laughed at after being picked last during P.E., Yamaguchi eating lunch alone, Yamaguchi getting his homework snatched out of his backpack. It was because he was too small, too unassertive, too fragile. He's grown out of it now, but back then, he had nothing. So when Kei was the first person to respond positively to the idea of being his friend, of course he'd latch on, do anything not to lose the only thing he had, even if it meant letting Kei mistreat him. 

Yamaguchi... must have hated silence. Kei thinks about his life then and knows it must be true: the lunch periods he'd spend sitting alone, the between-class breaks where he had no one to talk to, the empty house he'd return to after school. He's never been like Kei, the kind of person who thrives alone. That's why he'd act so excited when he saw Kei, talking on and on about the smallest things, and that's why Kei had so much trouble getting him to go home once he came over. But still... whenever Kei made it clear that he couldn't listen to another word, Yamaguchi wouldn't complain or ignore him. He'd just stop talking.

Comfortable silences, uncomfortable silences... Was there ever really a difference? Or did he just get so accustomed to Yamaguchi pretending to be comfortable that he thought it was genuine? Did Yamaguchi really change from before, or did he just get tired of pretending?

Kei knows the answer.

He picks up his phone, presses call, and lays on his bed. It rings three times.

"Eh, Tsukki? You never call. Are you okay? Did you get my text? I really am sorry, you know. I shouldn't have-"

He's talking too fast. Kei closes his eyes. "You're right," he cuts Kuroo off.

"...What?"

"I'm not mad at you," Kei says. "What you said, you were right. That's why I avoided you." 

"What do you-"

"I'll... text you again." Kei thinks for a second. "Not tonight, but I'll... answer, the next time you text me."  He moves to hang up but rethinks it. "Sorry." He ends the call and puts his phone face down on his night-table.

For a while, he just stares at the ceiling. He thinks about getting his volleyball, or turning off his lights and turning in early, but he decides against it. He wants to just lay like this, at least for a while. He's not at peace, but the fact that he stopped avoiding things make him feel clearer, somehow. It'll be worse from now on - he'll have to avoid Yamaguchi just like Yamaguchi is avoiding him - but if that makes him better, Kei knows it's worth it. And he has Kuroo now, and Kuroo really is different. He's not Yamaguchi. The things Kei does, they  _really_  don't hurt him, and he's not desperate. It's better like this, Yamaguchi with Yachi and Hinata and him with Kuroo.

As if on cue, Kei's phone starts ringing. He plays with the idea of turning off his phone or putting it on silent, but he doesn't; he just listens to it ring as he stares at nothing. For two minutes he does that, until guilt starts tugging at him. If Kuroo can accommodate him, he can pick up, just this once. He reaches for his phone. "Hello?"

He hears Kuroo laugh. "Took you a while to answer. You really are a problem child, you know?" Kei doesn't answer, and neither of them speak for a moment. "I talk to Kenma about you." 

"What?" Kei asks. It's an out-of-place admission, but he’s always known Kuroo and Kenma were close. He guesses he shouldn't be surprised by it, even if Kuroo never spoke to him about Kenma. They never talk about their personal lives except in passing; Kei's made sure of it.

"Ah, I hope you don't mind. You know he isn't the type to gossip. Just... when you get distant and take a while to come around, or I'm unsure of something, I tell Kenma the situation and ask him what he thinks." Kuroo laughs. "It sounds weird, doesn't it, that I ask someone younger than me for advice, but he's intelligent, you know? A lot like you. He's the one who told me you were probably irritated by what I said about you and Yamaguchi."

Kei doesn't know what to think or where Kuroo is going. It's strange, maybe, that the master of provocation has to ask an introvert like Kenma for help in his interpersonal relationships, but he understands what Kuroo means by intelligent. Kenma doesn't seem to like doing some things, but there's a difference between being able to fix a situation and being able to pinpoint what needs to be done to fix a situation. Kei knows that more than anyone. "So?"

"So I can do that for you. You can talk to me about Yamaguchi. It sounds like you need to."

The words sound strange in his ears. Talking to someone about something like this isn't a prospect he even considered, and he's never been the type to like talking in that manner anyway. Maybe that's why it feels like it's been ages since someone's even offered, other than Akiteru, and he's never taken him up on that anyway. Thinking over it, he doesn't think Yamaguchi ever has offered, to talk to him about things like that, but Yamaguchi didn't tell him about his mother, either. In that respect, he thinks they might be the same.

Kuroo is different. Kei forgot that, for a while, and what Kuroo wrote in the text he sent him sent Kei spiraling, but he lost sight of the forest for the trees. Kei disappeared for a week, and instead of pestering him or being mad at him, Kuroo apologized. That's the contradiction in Kuroo; that he's always so goading and rude, but when it matters, he'll guide, gently. It's strange, how Kei can revere someone he casually mocks so much, how it started with volleyball but somehow became more than that, something about strength and confidence and kindness that made this strange, almost nostalgic trust blossom in his chest.

If he hears it from Kuroo, that he should stop hurting Yamaguchi, it'll probably make things easier, somehow.

"Okay," Kei says, his voice a little bit shaky.

"Really?" He can hear surprise in his Kuroo's voice. "Then... what did you mean, when you said I was right?"

Kei closes his eyes and braces himself for the admission. "I'm not a good... friend." It's hard to find the words. "You know that I'm not the same as other people, and Yamaguchi can't... handle it. It's hurting him. He's been... strange, lately. You saw how he was at Nekoma."

"What was he like before?"

That makes sense. Kuroo thought Ennoshita was Yamaguchi, before, so he wouldn't know anything about him. "He used to like to talk. Whenever we were alone, he'd always have something to say and he'd always try to keep talking to me, even though I'm not... good, at that sort of thing. Now, he barely says anything. Even when he's with other people, all he does is listen. It's like he's someone else, and..." Kei pauses. "It's my fault. He's sensitive, and I can't... I'm... the kind of person I am."

"You've talked to him about this?"

Kei is glad he's not commenting on anything. It's probably just because he doesn't want a repeat of what happened at Nekoma, but he still appreciates it, even if he doesn't remember the things he's talking about fondly. "I asked him, once, why he was acting so strangely, and he told me he didn't know what I was talking about and went somewhere else. He... avoids me a lot, now." 

"Can I be honest?"

The words are frank, but Kei thinks that it's better than pity. "Okay."

"You have to promise you won't hang up and avoid me, no matter what I say. You don't have to agree with what I tell you, but I don't want you to get distant again, about this. You can trust me, you know."

Trust him? He has to, to have said everything he does. At least, he won't... do that again, anyway. "I do."

"You've probably thought of this, but you need to talk to him."

Kei frowns. "I told you, I tried to-"

"It's like volleyball, Tsukki. I've seen the way you hound players now, how you lock them in their side of the court. Do the same with Yamaguchi. You've known him for years, haven't you? I'm certain you can read him perfectly by now. At the very least, you can make him talk to you. It sounds like you just let him leave, the time you brought up."

Kei tries to find the words to explain it. "I can't. I'm not the kind of person-"

"You know, there was a time when you told me volleyball is only a club." Kuroo pauses, and Kei doesn't say anything. Those situations are  _different_. Kei hears Kuroo exhale. "I know there are things you can't do. I know you aren't like other people. But I also know that you're talking to me now. If you keep saying 'can't,' you'll lose Yamaguchi. He matters to you, doesn't he? Enough for you to avoid me for longer than you ever have."

Kei doesn't get it, why Kuroo can't seem to understand. Kuroo knows the kind of person he is, and even if he is capable of making Yamaguchi talk to him, he isn't capable of changing who he is completely, and it's who he is that's hurting Yamaguchi. "It's  _because_  he matters to me that I have to lose him. He's not like me or you. He's sensitive."

Kuroo tsks. "That's why you need to talk to him. He's never said that to you, has he?"

"He doesn't need to," Kei insists. He tries to find the words to make someone who doesn't know Yamaguchi understand, the flashes of pain he's seen across his expression from something as simple as a comment. That everything's changed, since then. "I've known him since we were children. The way he acts-"

"No offense, but you sound... biased. He's been your friend since you were young, right? If he really couldn't handle you, this would have happened a long time ago. Whatever happened, it must have been something else."

Agitation grows in Kei's chest. Biased? Kuroo couldn't understand it, that this isn't some self-esteem issue Kei has, it's just the  _truth_. If anyone's biased, it's Kuroo and his wild speculations on situations he barely knows anything about. "I'm not blindly guessing, you know. You don't know Yamaguchi, and even if you did-"

"Okay. Say you're right. Say Yamaguchi is sick of you and he never wants to speak to you again. If you talk to him, he'll just tell you what you already know. So  _talk_  to him. You've known each other for years, haven't you? Do you really want it to end like this? I thought you cared about him."

Kei grits his teeth at the last sentence. Kuroo always knows exactly what to say, doesn't he? Kei hates that about him, that he can be so irritating, yet... not wrong. Yamaguchi deserves more than some half-assed fizzling out, since he put up with him that long, but...

"You know, it won't end the way you think. You're not half as bad as you make yourself sound, Tsukki."

* * *

Kei watches Yamaguchi bite into his red bean bun, a little bit of the paste sitting at the corner of his mouth. Kei thinks about telling him about it, but with how antsy Yamaguchi is around him, he'll probably take it as a rebuke more than anything else. It's a little bit amusing, anyway, to watch Yamaguchi just sit there with food on his face.

Honestly, Kei wonders why he isn't sick of it yet, those buns he eats every day. He doesn't even seem happy to eat them, but the second mealtime begins, just like clockwork, Yamaguchi digs his bread out of his unorganized schoolbag. Why would he force himself to choke them down? Red bean paste isn't even healthy. That's why his mother would only let Kei eat them on special occasions when he was a child, anyway. Ah, but... Kei guesses he'll never know.

Yamaguchi's pink tongue darts around his lips, and Kei guesses he didn't need to comment on the food anyway. He feels Yamaguchi's gaze shift to him slightly - ah, Kei's been staring - and the corners of Yamaguchi's mouth turn up, slightly, as he turns his head to look fully at Kei. The expression sitting on Yamaguchi's face is barely a smile, but Kei is used to it. He's glad he at least makes the effort. After all, he might not anymore, after today. After today, everything will change, and Kuroo is blindingly optimistic.

"Hi, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says after he swallows.

"Hi, Yamaguchi," Kei replies.

If this were before, Yamaguchi would make a pointless comment, maybe something about how hard it was to understand the teacher today or how he watched something funny on TV the other night. It's stupid, to miss something like that, and Kei never thought he ever would, but he does, somehow. He misses knowing the things that Yamaguchi thinks, the things he does when he's not around. Yamaguchi rarely does anything when Kei's around, anyway.

They just sit there for a while, Yamaguchi polishing off his red bean bun and Kei picking at the bento his mother made for him. After a couple of minutes pass, Kei notices bright orange hair in the doorway and thinks that they took longer than they usually do. Hinata beckons Yamaguchi over, and Yamaguchi starts to stand. Before he can leave, Kei opens his mouth. "Yamaguchi."

"What's wrong, Tsukki?" Yamaguchi asks, not bothering to turn as he stands up and puts his arms through the jacket of his gakuran. There's not a trace of apprehension; it's like Yamaguchi is certain that whatever Kei has to say won't be important, won't require his full attention. Kei doesn't know how that makes him feel, but it doesn't matter anyway.

"After practice, do you have plans?" Kei asks, though Yamaguchi's answer won't change a thing. Kei won't let something like the word "no" stop him from doing this. It's like volleyball, right? It's like volleyball, and Yamaguchi is a spiker constantly trying to weasel out of his field of vision. Kei has too much pride to be stopped by something as weak as "no."

Yamaguchi visibly stiffens, freezing for just a second. "U-Uh..."

"Walk home with me today," Kei says, going in for the kill. Yamaguchi always tends to go along with what he wants if he tells him to instead of asking, and while he usually only does that when Yamaguchi's being particularly annoying, he'll use what he has. This is important.

Yamaguchi slips his cell phone in his pocket and turns his head over his shoulder, looking in Kei's general direction but not making eye contact. He takes a step forward. "I-I told Hinata-"

Kei tsks and reaches forward, grabbing the end of Yamaguchi's jacket with his left hand, tugging on it just enough so not to pull Yamaguchi back, but to stop him from moving forward. "Yamaguchi," he says, " _walk home with me_."

Yamaguchi freezes and there's something like fear on his face and Kei hates it more than anything, but he needs it, if it's what it takes to make Yamaguchi stop avoiding him. Anyway, the sting of Yamaguchi's expression doesn't matter. Of course it stings. This and everything he plans to do is the equivalent of ripping off a band-aid; it'll hurt like nothing else, but it can't stay on forever. That's not the way it's supposed to be.

"O-Okay, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says. "I will."

* * *

Kei changes into his gakuran carefully, making sure every part of his uniform is smoothed out and neat. He knows he's taking longer than he usually does, but moving feels strange somehow. There's an apprehension that he hasn't been able to shake since lunch. He was distracted all practice, falling for every single fake and letting Hinata smash through his blocks more often than not because he couldn't focus on the game. Even Yamaguchi was more together than him; Kei would be embarrassed if he could bring himself to care about volleyball right now.

Yamaguchi is standing a little off to his side, clutching the strap of his backpack with his left hand and just watching, the way he used to before he started leaving before him. He didn't try to get out of walking home with him, which Kei is grateful for. Even though he's fine with doing it to anyone else, intimidating Yamaguchi leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Kei slings his backpack over his shoulder and straightens it. He thinks about the headphones he left in his bag but decides against taking them out; he's talking to Yamaguchi, anyway, and putting on any air of distance will only make what he's about to harder. When he walks out of the locker room, he holds the door for Yamaguchi, and does it again when they leave the gym. Yamaguchi doesn't say a word, just smiles politely.

Kei walks slowly, keeping his steps small so as not to leave Yamaguchi in the dust. He usually does this when he's walking alongside him, but when he doesn't think about it, he either finds himself a foot ahead of Yamaguchi or speaking to a Yamaguchi breathing heavily from trying to keep up with him. That was a problem, when Yamaguchi used to talk.

There's a question behind Yamaguchi's expression, about why Kei called him out to walk home with him at lunch, about why this was so important that Kei has been more forceful than he's ever been, but Kei knows he won't ask it. It would probably be easier, if Yamaguchi asked. It's funny, because Kuroo made that big deal to him about keeping Yamaguchi locked in, stopping him from running away so they could talk, but now that the time's come, Kei can't bring himself to stay a word, and there's no volleyball metaphor to make him do it.

He tells himself he'll do it the second they get out of town, and then at the intersection, and then at the bridge, but he can't make himself speak. Before he knows it, they're at the front of his house and Yamaguchi is smiling at him.

"I guess we're here now," Yamaguchi says, his hands jammed in his pockets. "I'll... see you tomorrow, Tsukki." With that, he turns and starts to walk away.

Something seizes Kei. It dawns on him then that if he doesn't say anything now, he'll never say anything for the rest of his life, and he'll be doomed to be like this - staring at Yamaguchi's retreating back, just within arm's reach - until Yamaguchi finally disappears completely. In that second, whatever disgusting thing kept Kei glued to the concrete loosens its grip, and Kei steps forward. "Yamaguchi!"

Yamaguchi freezes, turning around just slightly. He hasn't gotten far; they're a cool two feet away from each other. "Tsukki?"

"Why-" Kei searches frantically for the words. "Why don't you talk anymore?"

Yamaguchi backs up, only a little bit. His eyes are wide and he won't look at Kei directly. "I don't- I don't know what-"

Something rises in Kei's chest, and he grits his teeth and leans forward. He won't let Yamaguchi do this again. "You're not okay, Yamaguchi."

Kei has never seen Yamaguchi's eyes so big, or his shoulders shake so much. "I'm- fine, Tsukki, I-"

"I  _know_  you're not fine!" Kei says, and it feels like he's spitting fire. "I  _notice_. I  _notice_ , when you stop talking, when you stop laughing, when the smiles you're always wearing are all fake. Of course I notice! I've been your friend since grade school; I know when something is wrong with you! I only..." He shifts his gaze to his feet. "I only want you to be yourself again. If it's my fault... If you need me to stop spending time with you, if you need me to do anything... Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it! Whatever it is, I'll  _do it_. It matters to me, Yamaguchi, that you're okay. More than anything."

When Kei finally forces himself to look Yamaguchi in the face, there are tears streaming down Yamaguchi's cheeks, and worry starts to take hold of Kei. He moves forward, to comfort Yamaguchi somehow-

And Yamaguchi turns around and takes off like a bullet.

As Kei watches Yamaguchi's back, retreating faster than he's ever seen it, he feels the fire in him turn to ice. 

Ah, this... wasn't what was supposed to happen. What was it Kuroo said? It's like - volleyball. When your opponent dashes across the court, what are you supposed to do? …Run after them, right? It's funny, though, how Kei can't seem to move. Kuroo would probably be mad, if he heard about this. He'd tell Kei that friendship is more important than "can't" and urge him to run after Yamaguchi, like in some shoujo manga. But that doesn't matter.

Kei isn't Kuroo. Kei isn't Yamaguchi. Kei is Kei, so Kei turns around and walks into his house, because that's what he can do.

* * *

Kei wakes up late. His arms are sore and his head feels strange, and he can't remember why he stayed up so late last night. He wanders into the bathroom and brushes his teeth quickly, and then goes back to his room and changes into his gakuran with less care than usual. He... can't bring himself to care much about anything.

He's going to make toast to eat before he leaves when he hears clear laughter, something he hasn't heard in a while, coming from the kitchen. He thinks for a second that he's going insane, but when his mother greets him good morning, by her side is a freckled boy he's known for years. 

Kei rubs his eyes, and he doesn't go away. It’s like the haze he's been wandering though has dissipated completely and he can think straight again. His insides feel warm, somehow. "Yamaguchi," Kei starts to say.

"Good morning, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, the smile on his face a little emptier than his smiles from before but somehow so much better than the smiles Kei had gotten used to seeing. Kei feels like Yamaguchi looks healthier, but he thinks it might just be the glow from the light of the window behind him.

His mother is preoccupying most of Yamaguchi's attention, bombarding him with questions of how he's been (good!), if he ate breakfast (he did), and why he didn't stop by recently (he's been busy). It's strange to think that even his mother felt Yamaguchi's absence, but Kei understands. Just having him here in the morning makes a strange, palpable difference. He might have... taken him for granted, before.

They walk out side by side, and Kei swears he sees a tear fall from his mother’s eye when Yamaguchi waves goodbye. When they're far enough away from his house, Kei considers asking Yamaguchi why he's there, what happened yesterday, but he feels like that will... ruin it, somehow. If Yamaguchi is happy next to him, Kei doesn’t mind not knowing.

Yamaguchi notices Kei staring and smiles at him, teeth showing. "Yesterday, I saw a special on jellyfish!" he says, and his voice is shaking, but Kei doesn't mind it. "It's... funny, because most of them are strange-looking, but some of them are really pretty. Those are usually the ones that kill you, though."

Kei laughs weakly. It's strange, that Yamaguchi would watch an animal documentary since he hates them so much, but Kei can't bring himself to really care about the content of his words. He just cares that there  _are_  words, that Yamaguchi's talking again, even if his voice is shaking and he seems nervous.

"You know," Yamaguchi says, the hesitant smile still on his face, "it was on that channel you like! Did you see it, Tsukki?"

Kei looks down for a second, and then thinks how stupid it would be to be with Yamaguchi like this and not look at him. Still... Kei rubs the back of his neck. "I... didn't watch any television last night," he admits.

Yamaguchi stops walking. It takes Kei a while to notice, since he'd been looking in another direction, and it's only when he's a couple of strides ahead of Yamaguchi when he realizes and turns around. Yamaguchi's... frozen somehow. His eyes aren't downcast, and he's not shaking, it's... something else, like they're in a video game, and he's malfunctioning.

"Yamaguchi," Kei asks, his eyes trained on his face, "are you alright?"

Yamaguchi is still for a second, and then his eyes move up to look at him - his eyes are so  _large_ \- and his mouth twists. He almost lunges forward, right into Kei, and then his arms are wrapped around his chest, his face buried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, and Kei notices his jacket starting to get wet, "I'm sorry, Tsukki, I'm sorry, Tsukki, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

Kei's arms close around Yamaguchi before he realizes what he's doing. "It's okay," he hears himself say.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it? when i was writing that last scene i was like... crying tears of happiness. i know that in japan most physical contact is faux pas but consider: Please Let Me Have This. also yamaguchi was a huggy kid, so it's kind of normal, even if they haven't done it in a while.
> 
> kuroo slayed me. the reason this took so long was because i was in the mountains thinking about kuroo and the kind of person he is. i don't know if his portrayal (or the portrayal of kurotsuki) here is great or fandom-typical, because i avoided fanfic since i didn't want to do the accidental plagiarism thing, but i hope i did well enough. i did think long about it, at least :')
> 
> also the next chapter should come faster because tsukishima and yama finally stopped being weird. I Just Want My Boys To Love Each Other. oh but also remember, no infidelity in this fic! that shit's fucked up! also, the three chapters thing is tenative but probably what's gonna happen. you know how it is.
> 
> if you enjoyed it or didn't enjoy it, please leave a comment or hit me up on my [tumblr](https://inspireigen.tumblr.com). i am always up to yell about tsukiyama. you know the [second ost cover](https://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/haikyuu/images/6/64/HQ_S2_OST_Vol.2.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160303004401) with tsukishima and yamaguchi on it? Saved My Life. amen


	3. wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's... something about this moment, this moment where Tsukishima is flush against his body, stiff and uncomfortable and warm and real, that makes Tadashi want to stop thinking just for a second, to let go of guilt and misunderstandings and worrying about whether or not you matter and just... have this.
> 
> Absently, Tadashi wonders what it would take to stay like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so there is No Excuse for why this took so long, but you should know i beat persona 5 in two weeks and be impressed. ("two weeks? what about the other three?" like i said... no excuse)
> 
> the next update will come faster, mostly out of necessity since i can't write during school, but that means you can take that as a guarantee! it will also be the last real chapter. i might do some epilogue-type stuff, but i'll burn that bridge when i get to it.
> 
> what else? i have a playlist i listen to when i write this fic and the song "you belong with me" by taylor swift is on it. also, "teardrops on my guitar." yamaguchi is a very sad boy and he does cry alone in his room. he is very good and deserves the world
> 
> \---
> 
> "but the monsters turned out to be just trees, and when the sun came up, you were looking at me." - out of the woods, taylor swift

In a voice that's hesitant and awkward but clear as day, Tadashi hears Tsukishima say, "It's okay."

And the warmth of Tsukishima's body wrapped around his makes Tadashi want to believe him, but... there are too many things swirling around Tadashi that make him certain it isn't okay, not completely. That he probably doesn't deserve to have it be okay, anyway. The lead in Tadashi's chest, the stiffness of Tsukishima's arms, the sharp point of his shoulder. Tsukishima is so  _good_ , and Tadashi treated him the way he did. He thought maybe if he ignored the black in his vision he could fix everything that was wrong without actually fixing it, but standing here like this, hiding his face in Tsukishima's shoulder, Tadashi knows that Tsukishima deserves more. 

He's so...  _good._

Tadashi can't believe he let himself forget it.

"It's- my fault-" Tadashi chokes out, his words muffled against Tsukishima's jacket. It's almost impossible to put his feelings into words, to even speak coherently, but if it's for Tsukishima he knows he has to, even if he can't find the courage to look him in the face. "The way I- treated you, I- You-"

Tsukishima feels like a mannequin someone posed to curl around Tadashi. It's not... different from how he usually feels, even if it's been a long time since Tadashi remembers touching him like this, but he knows this is hard for Tsukishima, to be close to him the way that he is now. He's not Kuroo. But... even though he's not Kuroo, even though it's hard, Tsukishima is still...

Maybe... Kuroo isn't as important as Tadashi thought. That's nice to think, but at the same time, that means that he... treated Tsukishima like that for... nothing, then... Even if Tsukishima still wants to be friends with him, maybe he doesn't... deserve...

A wooden hand smooths up and down Tadashi's upper back in a rough motion not unlike that of a window wiper, and then, slightly louder than the time before, Tadashi hears, "It's  _okay_ , Yamaguchi," and something... melts.

It's not okay. Tadashi knows it isn't, but... just for now, maybe it's enough that Tsukishima thinks so. Maybe it's enough that they can be this close. Things like "deserve," things like "too good," even if they're true... Do they really matter if what Tsukishima wants is to be with him? And he... never wanted to lose this, anyway.

Almost instinctively, Tadashi hugs Tsukishima tighter, and instead of pulling away when he realizes it, he lets himself close his eyes and savor it. There's...  _something_  about this moment, this moment where Tsukishima is flush against his body, stiff and uncomfortable and warm and _real_ , that makes Tadashi want to stop thinking just for a second, to let go of guilt and misunderstandings and worrying about whether or not you matter and just... have this.

Absently, Tadashi wonders what it would take to stay like this forever.

* * *

There's a program about exotic frogs playing on the television, but Tadashi can't focus enough to understand what's so interesting about them. Tsukishima is sitting next to him on his couch and it's almost... surreal, maybe. He's never  _really_  let Tsukishima into his apartment, only let him wait in his living room while he changed his clothes or picked something up he'd forgotten. It's not that he doesn't want Tsukishima to see it, just that... he spends a lot of time there anyway, and he'd rather be somewhere else, if it's possible. Right now, it's not, really. It's too early for anything to be open, and he can't face Tsukishima's mother after everything that happened. He doesn't think he can face... anyone, honestly. He can barely face Tsukishima.

Tsukishima... Tadashi glances at him through the corner of his eye. He's leaning forward, just slightly, eyes trained on the television. Tadashi knows he enjoys boring things like this, so he put it on, but he wonders if... Tsukishima is really watching, or he's just avoiding looking at him. Tadashi wouldn't blame him; Tsukishima's always been awkward about feelings and crying and affection, and he's always tried to avoid it, so that he did everything he did today and yesterday, it... Tadashi shifts his gaze to the floor.

Their hug lasted too long. Thinking about it makes his cheeks warm just a little, but it mostly just stirs up guilt inside his chest. He was the one who pulled away first, not Tsukishima, and he knows Tsukishima probably would've let him hug him forever if he never pulled away, the way things have been. He... took advantage of that, and he knows he shouldn't have, but... even though he wishes people stopped thinking he was so fragile, it's kind of... nice, sometimes, to be taken care of.

And Tsukishima didn't mind skipping practice, either. Tadashi thought he might just tell him that he'd meet him later when he said he couldn't really face the volleyball club right then, which he wouldn't have blamed him for, after everything, but Tsukishima said he'd stay with him. The feeling Tadashi had then made him marvel at the fact that he ever thought he'd be okay without this. He wonders, though, if he deserves to be okay.

Tadashi shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Right now, he can't worry about things like that, not while Tsukishima is- Tsukishima is- Tadashi's eyes widen. Tsukishima is staring at him, something like concern on his face. Ah, he was too expressive again. Tadashi really wishes he wasn't so easy to read, though he guesses it wouldn't have made a difference with someone like Tsukishima, anyway. Still... 

Tadashi turns to Tsukishima and smiles, just slightly. He's sure he's not fooling anyone, but on the off chance it'll make Tsukishima feel a little better... He glances at the television again, gestures at it with a tilt of his head. "Ah, they're really brightly-colored, aren't they? That's kind of... strange, isn't it? Since it's easier for them to get eaten by... uh..." What eats frogs again? "...capybaras, right?"

Tsukishima frowns slightly, and Tadashi realizes he said the wrong thing. "They're poisonous. That's why they're bright," Tsukishima finally says, in a tone that makes Tadashi certain they must have said that fact word for word. But even without that... he knew that before, really, the bright colors and poison thing, it's only... he's been distracted, but... he can't bring that up. Instead, he flashes Tsukishima a sheepish smile. Tsukishima shifts his gaze away from him and rubs the back of his neck. "Capybaras are herbivores."

"You're really smart, Tsukki!" Tadashi says, maybe a little bit at the expense of himself, but he doesn't mind. It's not like what he's saying isn't true, anyway. That capybara fact probably didn't come straight off the TV. It's kind of funny, really, since Tsukishima doesn't usually talk, but he likes sharing his random animal facts so much that he'll get over it, just so Tadashi knows the exact height of some obscure sea creature. Even though it's kind of strange, it's one of those Tsukishima things that Tadashi really likes. Tadashi really likes... a lot about Tsukishima...

Tsukishima's gaze is trained on Tadashi again, his eyes softened, just that little bit. "Not really," he says, but Tadashi gets the feeling he's not really thinking about what he's saying, the way his eyes are-

Tadashi shifts away from him, stretches his arms out. "My throat is a little dry from... ah. I'm gonna get water. Do you want some?" He looks at Tsukishima, who shifted when he moved, too, his eyes staring at the empty space slightly to the left of Tadashi. He shakes his head, and Tadashi wanders into the kitchen. The apartment is small, so it's not that far away from where he was before, but he feels the distance cool him down like a sports drink after training for hours. This is... a little harder than he thought, in ways he never expected. 

He pours himself a glass of water and downs the entire thing in one gulp. It's calming, in a weird kind of way. There's something about drinking something cold that fills the void carved out by bad feelings, even if the feelings he has now aren't bad in the usual way. Before he goes back out to the living room, he rifles through the fridge and pulls out a box of chocolate milk. Even if Tsukishima said he didn't want anything, it feels a little wrong to just not get him anything.

When he sits next to Tsukishima again, he holds out the milk for him without looking at his face, saying, "I, uh, know you don't really like... chocolate, but I wanted to-"

"Thanks," Tsukishima cuts him off, and the way he says it is so strange and soft that Tadashi can't help but look straight at him. His mouth is turned up at the corners just slightly, and Tsukishima smiles like this so rarely that Tadashi feels like he's seeing a unicorn. He doesn't know why him doing this makes Tsukishima so happy, since he gives Tsukishima things all the time and he knows he's never liked chocolate that much, but he doesn't really care. The way he looks, when he's happy like that, it's...

"No problem," Tadashi hears himself say, his voice too low, and for a second, he's frozen, just looking at Tsukishima while he looks at him, and it should be weird, but it  _isn't_ , and-

A loud commercial jolts them both out of it, something about military-grade food for strong dogs, and Tadashi isn't sure what "military-grade" means for dog food, but he's grateful for the commercial anyway. It wasn't tension in the air, but there was  _something_ , and what it was doing to them was... Tadashi doesn't know. Anyway, whatever it was is gone now, so he can be normal again. He..  _can_...

"That dog's kind of cute, right?" Tadashi finally says, glancing at the television. He sees Tsukishima's nose wrinkle and looks at it again and realizes his mistake. There's an old Akita with a drooping face and severe gaze on the screen, and even though Tadashi firmly believes that all dogs are cute, Tsukishima doesn't exactly... agree with him.

"It looks like Tanaka-senpai," Tsukishima comments, and when Tadashi looks at the dog on the screen again, he can't hold back his laughter. It's definitely true; that intimidating gaze is almost identical to the one on Tanaka's face when someone on the opposite end of the volleyball net pisses him off or he sees someone try to hit on Shimizu. Tadashi feels a little guilty thinking it's so funny, but there's something about the mean jokes Tsukishima makes that just  _get_  him, no matter how much he tries to be nice.

Tadashi looks at Tsukishima and sees a tiny smirk on his face, and it's... kind of reassuring, somehow. They're really normal again. It's amazing, how much you can miss something simple like this, how nice it feels to have it back.

They finish the program in silence, just sitting like that, side by side, smiles on both of their faces. When it ends and they've gathered all of their things, ready to head back to Karasuno, he feels Tsukishima's eyes on him, in a way that's different from the way he'd been looking at him earlier. 

"What's wrong, Tsukki?" he asks, clutching his bag strap. He's not used to seeing the face that Tsukishima is making, which is a little... worrying, maybe, but Tadashi knows that it's not sadness on his face. Not... outright sadness, at least.

"You're..." Tsukishima starts, and his voice is lower, more hesitant than it usually is. "You're really okay now, Yamaguchi?"

Tadashi realizes that the look on Tsukishima's face is honesty. He feels... guilty about it. Tsukishima asking something like that... It really hits Tadashi just how little Tsukishima knows, how confusing this whole thing must have been for him. He remembers what Tsukishima said to him yesterday, about how he thought it was fault, about how he'd stop spending time with him if he was hurting him like that, and... it's not like the reason he started distancing himself from Tsukishima  _wasn't_  that being around him hurt, that some of the things he did were... 

But that doesn't even matter. He knows he can't blame Tsukishima for that, because that's the way he  _is_ , and he made Tsukishima think that the way he is is  _bad_. Knowing he did that makes Tadashi feel a kind of horrible that he can't put into words, because Tsukishima is the last person who should ever think something like that. Tsukishima's never been bad. Always, no matter what, he's been  _good_.

Tsukishima deserves honesty. Tsukishima deserves... better, and Tadashi knows he can't give that to him. To be honest at this point, to come clean to Tsukishima about why everything happened... If he found out that Tadashi started acting so strangely because he saw him with Kuroo, because he found out Tsukishima was in love with someone other than him, Tsukishima would figure it out, immediately. That's the kind of intelligent he is. It'd basically be... an indirect confession, and Tadashi can't afford that, the way things are. He can't afford to lose this. He knows that now.

Tadashi smiles - and the smile isn't fake, for everything he's been thinking about, because he's standing here and Tsukishima is standing next to him - and says, simply, "I am." 

Tsukishima looks satisfied with that, and Tadashi almost leaves the conversation there, but the thought still lingers in the back of his mind.  _Tsukki deserves better_. As Tsukishima's hand closes around the doorknob, Tadashi speaks again.

"Tsukki, uh... Thanks, for..." Tadashi bites his lip. "Thank you."

Tsukishima just looks down and doesn't reply, but his cheeks tinge pink just slightly. He looks so cute, Tadashi decides, that seeing him like that is better than any answer he could have given.

* * *

Tadashi spots bright orange in the doorway of his classroom just as Tsukishima is asking him why he eats red bean bread every day, and he thinks to himself that it's kind of lucky.

He feels bad, because Tsukishima asked it awkwardly and he never starts conversations like that, but... He doubts he remembers that time after their first volleyball game. It was years ago, and it's not exactly a good memory... It'd be kind of embarrassing, to tell him about that if he didn't remember. Of course, there are practical reasons, too, like how he doesn't like making his own lunches and how his mom doesn't have time, but he could be eating melon bread or dried pork or something... Red bean bread just reminds him of-

Ah, that really is embarrassing.

"Yamaguchi, you're still alive!?" he hears Hinata exclaim as he comes over, Kageyama trailing behind him. "Can you still play volleyball?"

Tadashi forces himself into a thin-lipped smile. "Oh, I..." He's... never been good at lying, but it was Tsukishima's idea, to tell them that he passed out the way to school and Tsukishima had to take him home. He thought that excuse was a little extreme, but when he said as much to Tsukishima, he just told him not to worry about it because everyone in the volleyball club is kind of stupid. The atmosphere was still a little weird then, so Tadashi didn't say anything more, but he's starting to regret it now...

"He just fainted. He's fine now," Tsukishima interrupts, glancing at Hinata out of the corner of his eye, and Tadashi flashes him a smile. He usually never talks to Hinata when he comes over, so it's kind of nice that he's doing it because he saw Tadashi was nervous.

Hinata wrinkles his nose and brings a hand to his chin. "...Really? I always thought-" He eyes Tadashi, and Tadashi feels himself getting more nervous by the second. Missing practice isn't that big a deal, but they went and told a lie like that and-

"Idiots shouldn't overwork their brains, you know," Tsukishima says, not bothering to look at Hinata, and Tadashi has to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter. 

Hinata scowls. "Hey, Shittyshima-" he starts to say, and even though watching Hinata and Tsukishima argue is kind of funny, Tadashi thinks he'd probably better put a stop to this now. Hinata can get pretty heated, and they're inside.

"I'm really okay, Hinata-kun," he interrupts, smiling a little bit. Tsukishima helped with his nervousness, so he feels a little bit better about lying.

Hinata glances at him, looking slightly disoriented, like he forgot what Tadashi was there. As long as he's not about to start a fight, Tadashi doesn't really mind. Hinata scratches his nose. "So... then..." He squints and wrinkles his nose again.

Kageyama, who'd mostly just been watching the entire conversation, lets out an exasperated sigh and swats Hinata on the back of his head. "Dumbass." He looks at Tadashi, face flat. Tadashi knows more of his irritation is from Hinata and he does consider Kageyama a good friend, but... he still feels a little scared when Kageyama looks at him with a face like that. "Are you eating with us?"

"Oh, uh..." Tadashi bites his lip and looks at Tsukishima, who's turned away from the conversation, leaning into his bento. He wants to stay with Tsukishima, but it'd be unfair to Hinata and Kageyama, wouldn't it? To only be friends with them when Tsukishima isn't around. They helped him a lot, really, and... yeah. It would be unfair. Especially since he lied to them about this morning. "I am," he says, but before he stands up, he tugs on the back of Tsukishima's shirt. "Do you want to come, too, Tsukki?"

Tsukishima is kind of stiff, and Tadashi thinks for a second that he's asking for too much. He really does owe Hinata and Kageyama this, so he can't get out of it today, but he wants to Tsukishima to be next to him if he can be. It's alright if Tsukishima decides he can't, especially since he already did a lot of things he wouldn't usually do for him today, but...

Out of the corner of his eye, Tadashi sees Hinata and Kageyama look at each other in that way he used to hate, but he doesn't mind. Misguided pity stings much less than the other kind, and Tadashi knows what he thought was true before was never true at all. "It's okay if-" Tadashi starts to say, but Tsukishima cuts him off.

"I... do," Tsukishima finally admits. Usually, Tsukishima would be too cool to say something like that, so hearing those words from him... it's a kind of nice that's hard to describe.

"That's great!" Tadashi says, and he turns to Hinata and Kageyama. "It's okay, right?" He probably should have asked first, but he knows that they're all friends, even if they act like they hate each other sometimes. It'd be nice for all of them to eat together, like a first-year volleyball club thing. Maybe they could get Yachi! Though she probably has people to eat lunch with already...

Hinata is making a weird kind of face, something like a scowl mixed with suspicion. Ah, he's still miffed about the comment from earlier. "Eh... I don't-" he starts to say, but Kageyama elbows Hinata particularly hard and completely unsubtly, and Hinata corrects himself. "Okay."

And then they stand up, and they bring their lunch to the roof, and they eat, and it's normal, mostly, but it's also... a little bit better than normal, because it's livelier with Tsukishima around and Tadashi's surrounded by people he really likes and... it's easier for Tadashi to find things to say, when he's happy like that.

* * *

A couple of days pass, and things fall into place so easily that Tadashi feels like he's wandering through a dream. The weird trio he'd had going with Hinata and Kageyama started to include Tsukishima, though they did start seeking him out less. Tadashi doesn't mind, since he knows they started spending time with him out of obligation, anyway. As long as they're all still friends, it's alright.

And Tsukishima is... something else, now. The first couple days he'd been incredibly, unbelievably nice to Tadashi, to the point where Tadashi got a little worried he was straining himself too much, even if he did appreciate it. He's a little closer to the Tsukishima he's used to, now, which Tadashi is kind of happy about, since that's the Tsukishima he's been friends with for ages, the Tsukishima who scared away the bullies on the playground, that many years ago.

It's odd, because even if Tsukishima still acts differently sometimes, Tadashi knows it's not his behavior that makes him feel so  _different_. The change is more complicated than something he can describe in a word like "behavior" or "appearance." Tsukishima just... feels softer and brighter somehow, and Tadashi isn't sure why. There's a saying, he thinks, something about not learning to really appreciate something until you lose it, and maybe that's part of it, but he knows there's something else, something...

Ah, he'd... rather not think about it. It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is enjoying it, and being here. There's still guilt, but it's a little less loud now. Even though there are things Tadashi hasn't told Tsukishima, there are things Tsukishima hasn't told Tadashi either. It hurt when Tsukishima didn't tell him about Kuroo, but he thinks now that he was looking at it the wrong way. He thought Tsukishima didn't trust him before, but now he's sure that Tsukishima just thought it didn't matter, in the sense that Tadashi doesn't really need to know it. Tsukishima's always been the kind of person who could solve his problems on his own, so it's not like he'd need to vent to Tadashi about Kuroo, anyway. 

In the same way, Tsukishima doesn't need to know about the time he accidentally saw him with Kuroo, or the things he's found out since then. Those things don't matter. He doesn't usually tell Tsukishima about his problems, anyway. Even if these things are a little more relevant, and directly affected Tsukishima, he... doesn't need to know. He's finally his friend again and he seems happy, so...

Tadashi... really shouldn't be thinking about this right now, not while he's sitting on Tsukishima's bed. Tsukishima's just outside, grabbing a chair, probably fending off his mom. That thought is kind of funny, honestly. He doesn't know how Tsukishima ended up so grouchy when he grew up around people like his mother and Akiteru. Maybe it was some form of childhood rebellion. That's kind of cute, right? Whatever happened, though, Tadashi is glad that it did. He doesn't think he'd want another version of Tsukishima. He likes the one he knows now.

The door to Tsukishima's room opens then, and Tadashi thinks to himself how lucky he is that he just sat still and didn't mess with Tsukishima's weird dinosaur models like he thought about doing. "What are you smiling about?" Tsukishima asks, dragging a swivel chair behind him, putting it next to the one at the desk, and sitting down.

Tadashi can't help but smile wider at the sight of him. "Nothing, Tsukki," he says, moving to sit in the chair he dragged in, "I was just thinking about how cute those are." He gestures to Tsukishima's shelves with a tilt of his head. Tsukishima scowls, but doesn't say anything. He's used to Tadashi teasing him about them by now, but Tadashi can't help it. It's so funny that someone like him likes dinosaurs like that, to the point where he has giant action figures in his room. And he likes to call other people childish... 

Tsukishima interrupts Tadashi's train of thought, probably on purpose. He's always been too easy to read. "Where's your assignment?"

Ah, Tadashi almost forgot the reason he came over.

The other day, Tadashi had been offhandedly complaining about not understanding English, and instead of just nodding like he usually does, Tsukishima offered to help him study after school, which wasn't exactly something Tadashi was trying to make happen. Tsukishima's never really been a patient tutor. A part of Tadashi feels like it might have something to do with that time he rejected him to hang out with Kuroo, but that was weeks ago. Tsukishima probably forgot about it. Still, Tadashi can tell that Tsukishima is trying to be nicer now, and even though he doesn't really need to be, Tadashi doesn't think that rejecting those attempts would be the right thing to do, either. It doesn't really matter, anyway. It's not like spending the afternoon in Tsukishima's house is really a loss, and Tsukishima's never the one who invites him over.

Tadashi reaches over to pick up the bag he'd left leaning against Tsukishima's desk and rifles through it, pulling out his English notebook and workbook. "Do you need me to get your bag, too?"

"I did the assignment already," Tsukishima says curtly. Tadashi isn't surprised; Tsukishima's always on top of things like that, so of course he'd have it done even if it's not due until next week. Not to mention that things always come so easily to him... Tsukishima really is too cool. Tadashi's thinking about this when Tsukishima's eyes move to meet his, and Tadashi looks away. Ah, he's been staring... "What don't you understand?"

Tadashi almost sighs in relief. Tsukishima didn't comment on what happened. Maybe he doesn't have the right to, considering that he stared at him sometimes before, but... there was a lot of stuff going on before and Tadashi doesn't like to think about it. Anyway... He points out a couple of problems in the assignment he doesn't really get, though he hasn't really thought about it, so they're kind of random. That's... probably fine.

Tsukishima scoots over a little and leans over Tadashi's books, squinting at the problems he pointed out. His face is... a little too close to Tadashi's, and... has it always been normal, for them to be this close? It's been a while, so... Tsukishima is talking about something, but Tadashi can't really make out the words. If he moved away, would it be... weird? If this is normal, and he scoots away from Tsukishima, he might think... but he really can't focus when Tsukishima's so close, and...

Tsukishima is looking at Tadashi expectantly now, tapping his pencil on the page. What is he saying? "...paying attention?" Ah, did he notice? He can't let him know what he's been thinking about.

"Of course!" Tadashi says, flashing him a wide grin. His voice shakes a little, but he thinks maybe Tsukishima won't realize. 

Tsukishima's expression doesn't change. "Do the problems then," he says flatly. Ha, Tsukishima really is a strict tutor...

"Okay," Tadashi says, still smiling. He pulls the workbook closer to him and scoots away from Tsukishima, just a little bit. He doesn't think he notices, although the way he's watching him makes Tadashi feel... uncomfortable, maybe, but he's not sure that's the right word. He wishes Tsukishima had something to do, too. Though... that's kind of nice, right? He's really just tutoring Tadashi because he wants him to do better. Yeah! Doing better, though... He didn't hear anything Tsukishima said at all...

Tadashi looks down at the paper sitting on the desk. This isn't that bad, really. He isn't  _that_  confused, and... yeah. He picks up the pen Tsukishima left lying by the workbook and does the problems as quickly as he can. As much as he appreciates Tsukishima trying to help him, this isn't really... effective, and he kind of wants it to end. After this, they can watch a movie or something, and Tadashi will feel a little better. "I'm done," he says, sliding his book over to Tsukishima because he doesn't think he can handle having Tsukishima that close to him again. 

Tsukishima leans forwards and glances at the paper, and in less than a minute, he taps on a problem and says, "This is wrong. Fix it." He almost slides it back, but he looks at the paper again, studying it for a second and then circling three more problems. "These are wrong, too."

That's... half the assignment. Maybe next time he has trouble in class Tadashi just won't mention it. He takes the book from Tsukishima and stares at the problems he circled, and thinks about how he should admit to him that he has no idea what he did wrong. Ah, but... maybe he'll get lucky if he just guesses. He changes the conjugations of a couple of verbs, slides it back, and asks, "Is that okay?"

Tsukishima lets out an exasperated sigh as he looks at the paper. "These are all still wrong. I just explained this to you. Did you even try?"  

"I'll try again!" Tadashi says, and he takes the paper back, but it's hard to think clearly with Tsukishima staring at him like that, especially with the added pressure of him getting more irritated. He's never really done well under pressure.

After Tadashi fills in different answers and slides it back, he sees Tsukishima's face go dark and braces himself. He really thought he had it that time! There are only three tenses, right? "Eh, Yamaguchi, you know these are all incredibly simple, right? That you're getting them wrong on your third try says a lot, you know?"

Ouch. Maybe he should've gotten ready for this at least a little, but... ouch. "Sorry, Tsukki," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Tadashi thinks to himself that Tsukishima would be an awful schoolteacher, but the kids would be well-behaved. Especially since when Tsukishima starts, he takes a while to stop. Tadashi braces himself for more scolding.

Weirdly enough, it doesn't come. Tsukishima blinks, glances at him, and glances away. His mouth presses into something like a frown. For a second, he's silent, and Tadashi's about to say something, and then he hears, in a voice he can barely make out, "Sorry." Tadashi makes a confused sound instinctively, and Tsukishima's eyes dart to look at him again and then away. He's studying the box at the corner of his desk really hard. "I didn't mean you were... stupid, or-"

Oh. Tadashi almost forgot the reason that Tsukishima invited him over at all was because he's trying to be nice. He's... really trying, huh? But... "Tsukki," Tadashi says, and Tsukishima lifts his head to look at him, "it's okay, you know?"

Tsukishima furrows his eyebrows. "What?"

"You don't..." Tadashi rolls the pen in his hand between his thumb and forefinger. How does he put it into words? Or... should he even put it into words? They never talk about things like this, but... Tadashi remembers that afternoon, when they were standing just outside the house they're in now.  _It matters to me, Yamaguchi, that you're okay. More than anything_. He owes Tsukishima this, at least. "You don't have to... force yourself to be nice all the time. Even if you're harsh, I won't be... hurt, or take it too seriously, you know? Because..." He looks at Tsukishima, who's staring at him now. His eyes... there's something in them, and... He doesn't know. "...you're my best friend, right?"

Tsukishima is quiet for a second. The silence is so loud that Tadashi can't even hear himself think. "Right," he finally says, and there's a softness in his voice that Tadashi can feel fill the room.

Yeah... best friend.

* * *

"Yamaguchi-kun!" Tadashi hears just as he's about to hit the volleyball he launched into the air, and it falls to the ground before he can catch it. When he turns around, his favorite volleyball club manager is standing next to him.

"Hi, Yacchan," he says, flashing her a quick smile. It's nice to see her; since he started talking to Tsukishima again, he's been seeing less of her. She doesn't really come up to him when he and Tsukishima are alone. He thinks maybe she still finds Tsukishima a little intimidating, even after all the time she spent as volleyball club manager. Honestly, Tadashi isn't sure how they'd get along, but he's pretty sure Tsukishima at least wouldn't be mean to her, since she's so small and nice. Though... he never really was that kind to any of the girls who asked Tadashi to set them up with him, no matter how small and nice they were. That was probably a blessing in disguise, but... huh...

Yachi did speak to him for real once, just a little bit after things went back to normal. In between drills, when they were all gathering around their water bottles and Tsukishima left to use the restroom, she asked Tadashi if everything was okay again and he said yes, because it was, where it mattered. The conversation ended quickly, but it was nice she asked.

"Guess what, Yamaguchi-kun!" Yachi interrupts his train of thought, stars in her eyes. Tadashi wonders what's got her fired up now; it's probably something silly, but he likes listening to it anyway, and he knows he's the only one in the volleyball club she's comfortable talking to about some things. As she told him once: Hinata is nice, but he can be too straightforward. Tadashi knows exactly what she means.

Tadashi reaches for a volleyball from the bin next to him; apparently today Yachi's not even here under the guise of helping him with practice. He doesn't really mind, but it's kind of funny she stopped caring. "What happened?" he asks, tossing the ball up.

"I'm gonna...! I'm gonna watch a movie with Kiyoko-senpai!" she announces, clenching a fist by her chest, and Tadashi hits the serve wrong. "I was just telling her about how there's a movie I want to see, but - my mom's too busy to go with me, and none of my friends from class want to see it, and when Kiyoko-senpai heard, she said - 'If you want, I can go with you'! So now we're- we're going to see a movie on Saturday!" Tadashi's eyes widen as the ball almost hits Ennoshita in the back of his head, until he jumps out of the way to hit a ball Tanaka launched in his direction. "Do you think... Do you think if I wore makeup, it would be weird?"

Tadashi takes another volleyball from the bin. "I don't really know about things like that," he admits. He spins the volleyball between his fingers. "What movie are you going to see?"

" _Goodfellows_ ," Yachi answers, although it seems like she's still thinking about the makeup thing, the way she's scrunching her mouth and not looking at him.

Yachi's answer is so nonchalant that Tadashi almost doesn't notice that she said the name of a violent yakuza movie.  _Goodfellows_... does she really like films like that? It explains why she's so paranoid, at least... He wonders if Shimizu knows. She'd probably have to, if they already made the date. Still... "You know, Hinata-kun probably would have watched that with you if you asked him," Tadashi says, examining the volleyball in his hands.

He glances at Yachi. She's making a weird face, wrinkling her nose and squinting at him. Ah...

Tadashi smiles weakly. Usually he likes hearing Yachi talk about Shimizu because she's so funny about it, but... there's something in the pit of his stomach and he's not sure why. "You're really... over him, aren't you?" Tadashi hears himself ask. A second passes and Tadashi realizes what he's said, how he's changed the atmosphere between them. Yachi's mouth is pressed into a frown. "Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to... I hope your date goes well."

Yachi just stares at him, and there's a look in her eyes that he's seen far too much, over those terrible few weeks. It's a waste of time to think about it. He turns away from her and focuses on the volleyball in his hands. He throws it in the air, and just as he's about hit it, he hears Yachi say, "Yamaguchi-kun... about Tsukishima-kun, do you...?" The ball connects with his palm in a loud smacking noise, but despite how he hit it, it still floats and carries itself a sizable distance away from Tadashi. Having Yachi around is probably helping him get better at playing under pressure.

Ah... He knows exactly what she's asking him. "I do," he admits to her, and for some reason it's easier to say it out loud to her than to think it to himself. Maybe it's because she's told him a lot, just to try to make him feel better. But... he's taken advantage of that, hasn't he? Geez... "Ha, this is kind of depressing, right? Sorry. Tell me more about Shimizu-senpai."

Yachi doesn't really react, but there's no pity in her eyes, either. She's not even looking at him right now; her gaze is fixed somewhere behind him, at Shimizu, maybe, or Tsukishima. Ah, Tsukishima... He wonders if it would've been better if he insisted on going with Tsukishima when Tanaka and Ennoshita dragged him away. Yachi's day would be better, anyway. But... he really thought he was doing something big then, when he told Tsukishima that he didn't mind him not spending practice with him. Something about accepting that there are ways he can grow and ways Tsukishima can grow, and that those ways don't always intersect. Something about being okay with that because even despite that, they can still be friends, and that's good enough.

...What a lie.

"You know!" Yachi says, and her tone is bright... hopeful, maybe. "If it's Tsukishima-kun, I think he might also..."

Tadashi looks at Yachi and smiles at her weakly, and then turns and picks up a volleyball. It's kind of... hard to look at her. The truth is that Yachi doesn't really know Tsukishima that well, that the kind of different that Tsukishima treats him isn't the kind of different that he needs. But the truth is also that... the things she's saying echo his thoughts at night, his thoughts when he's alone with Tsukishima and Tsukishima isn't looking at anyone other than him. He's... had this conversation before, and what he decided was that... Tsukishima's phone still buzzes when they talk, even if he doesn't answer the messages when they're alone together. Nekoma still has a captain, and he's the one that Tsukishima likes the way Tadashi wants him to like him. He can't change that, and he doesn't want to. If that's something that makes Tsukishima happy... he deserves it. Tadashi's always thought Tsukishima deserved better than him anyway.

"Yacchan, you're... really nice, you know?" he says, but he still can't look at her. "You're really nice, but... Tsukki doesn't think of me that way." 

Yachi doesn't say anything when he throws the ball in the air, and Tadashi thinks about how what he said was right. Sometimes she gets carried away with whatever she's thinking about, and sometimes she's too nervous to speak coherently, but whenever they have important conversations, she never says the wrong thing. Or she does her best not to, anyway. "If it hurts so much..." Yachi starts to say, "maybe you shouldn't... spend so much time with him."

Tadashi hits the ball, and it flies across the court. It doesn't float, though. "It was... worse, when we didn't speak," he says. "I..."

Tadashi does an entire serve in the time it takes for Yachi to speak again. "It'll- It'll get better! For me, at least, it did, and... you're- strong, Yamaguchi-kun! I'm sure the same will happen for you!"

Tadashi laughs, just lightly. Her enthusiasm is forced, but he's glad she's trying, anyway. "Thanks," he says. "Sorry I made everything so depressing. Uh... What are you planning on doing with Shimizu-senpai after you watch the movie on Saturday?"

Yachi probably sees through it, but she lets him change the subject anyway, tells him that she never thought about it and asks if it would be weird if they got dinner, or if it would be weirder if she invited her to her house? Or they could go to arcade, and she could teach Shimizu to play the games the way Hinata taught her! Maybe it starts as her nervously trying to change the subject, but with every word, Tadashi feels it get more genuine, hears her worry and her happiness and... he wonders if he could ever get excited like that, about someone other than Tsukishima. If he'll ever get over it.

He can't really... imagine it, liking anyone more than he likes Tsukishima, Tsukishima who's been by his side for years, Tsukishima who's obsessed with dinosaurs and spends all his time watching boring nature documentaries, Tsukishima who can be carelessly cruel but makes Tadashi feel like nothing in the world could ever be wrong when he smiles the right way. The thought that he'll find someone better... It feels  _wrong_ , down to Tadashi's very core. That boy he met on a playground years ago, that boy who's too good for everyone he meets... how could there be someone better? For everything he's done for Tadashi... how could he have the audacity to think that there's someone better out there?

If it's true, if there is someone like that... Tadashi doesn't think he ever wants to meet them.

* * *

Tadashi nuzzles his face against his pillow, sinking further into it, even if it is a little stiff and uncomfortable. The fabric is so soft that it doesn't even matter. He thinks to himself that if the television weren't so loud, he'd like to stay like this forever.

Ah, wait... the television? His mother scolded him the other day for falling asleep with the television on, so he should-

"You're awake?" a voice says, jolting Tadashi out of his daze. The voice is... way too close to him. He sits up, rubs his cheek with the back of his hand, and realizes he fell asleep against Tsukishima's shoulder. He used to do it a lot, even after they went to high school, but... it's  _different_  now. Not that he could tell Tsukishima... Still, he can't believe he did that! He has been tired lately, but....

He takes a second to orient himself. It's Saturday. He came to Tsukishima's house after school, they spent a couple of hours playing video games (or, Tsukishima tried and failed to teach Tadashi how to play his favorite game correctly), reading manga in Tsukishima's bedroom, and then they went out in his living room and Tsukishima put on the nature channel, and... Tadashi fell asleep. That makes sense, but... it's dark out now? "What time is it?" Tadashi asks.

"It's twelve," Tsukishima says nonchalantly, typing something on his phone and then leaving it facedown on the corner table. "Someone's been texting you."

Texting him? It's Saturday, right? So probably Yachi... but... wait a second... "It's twelve? I have to go home!" he says. Ah, it's so late, and there aren't enough streetlights in Torono Town. He should've woken him up. Ah... speaking of waking him up... "How long have you been sitting there?"

Tadashi thinks he sees Tsukishima's cheeks flush pink just slightly, but it might just be a trick of the television light in the darkness. "It's fine. You seemed tired."

That's nice, but... he shouldn't be letting Tadashi do things like that, if he has a boyfriend. That's... probably just how much Tsukishima sees him as friend, huh? He guesses Kuroo hasn't spoken to him about things like this, which Tadashi kind of gets. It's not normal to have to talk about things like that, so... Ah, it's fine. He'll just be more careful next time. Acting close like that isn't really good for Tadashi, either.

"Anyway, aren't you staying over?" 

"Eh?" Tadashi says without thinking. "I can't do that!" It's not like they're going to... do anything, but it's not...  _right_  to do things like that, if Kuroo doesn't know about them. Does Kuroo know about them? He really, truly does like Tsukishima the way he is, but he kind of wishes that he were the kind of friend who told him about things, so he could say things like "it's not appropriate to do this if you're dating someone else" out flat. Since he used to do it when they were friends, it's probably become normal for Tsukishima... but it's not, really. Tadashi wishes he'd reserved himself a little bit more when he was younger.

Tsukishima is looking at him, and there's something like confusion in his eyes, but something else, too. "Why?" he asks, and Tadashi recognizes the look for what it is. He's been so lost in his own thoughts he hasn't even been looking at Tsukishima.

Isn't that how he spent those really terrible few weeks? 

Appropriate, inappropriate. Does it matter, if it's the difference between Tsukishima being happy and unhappy? It's not like Tsukishima is the kind of person to cheat anyway. If Kuroo likes him enough to date him, he has to know that. That's probably why he never spoke to him about boundaries or anything like that. The things that are really important, Tsukishima won't do. It kind of hurts Tadashi to admit that... but it makes him happy to know his best friend isn't that type of person. That the person he's in love with isn't that type of person.

"I... I guess it's too late for me to go home," Tadashi hears himself say, and Tsukishima doesn't smile, but his eyes clear.

The rest of that night, he just talks to Tsukishima in his room, about Yachi and Kiyoko, about the manga he's read and the television he's watched, about how he's gonna perfect that float serve, and he lays his futon out on the floor next to Tsukishima's bed, just like they used to sleep when they were younger. It's a nostalgic kind of warmth, and he can tell Tsukishima's happy he's there, even if it doesn't always show on his face, and it's... nice.

But when the lights turn out and he starts hearing Tsukishima's gentle snoring between the pauses as he talks, Tadashi starts to wonder if he really did see something in Tsukishima's eyes, or if he just... wanted to see something in his eyes. When he stays here like this, late at night, with Tsukishima asleep next to him, he almost feels like... Tsukishima feels the same he does about him, and they're staying together because they feel that way. Because they... love each other. 

And he's felt so warm, all night, and he feels good right now, but... it's not... real. As nice as it is to pretend, he can't help but feel, in the pit of his stomach, that what he's doing is just a little bit wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! you probably noticed it was shorter than usual, but i do have an actual reason for that other than that this chapter is extremely late. basically... i'm all about quality over quantity (i know this is shocking but i do my best) and yamaguchi can't move the plot because he doesn't know kuroo and is also not dating him. i'd rather release a short chapter than waste your time with repetition, you know what i mean?
> 
> whether you liked the chapter or not, please leave a comment if you can, or alternatively, hit me up on [tumblr](https://inspireigen.tumblr.com) if you feel like it! thanks for reading!


	4. reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei knows he trusts Kuroo, far more than he's used to trusting people, but it's unsettling, knowing that he understands how Kei feels around Yamaguchi. It doesn't make sense that Kuroo understands it, because it's... Kei's feeling, and... he doesn't _want_ Kuroo to understand it. He likes it the way it is, and he doesn't want to think too hard about it, doesn't want to know what other people think about it. He wants it to just be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so this chapter is almost the size of two chapters, but it's not quite there, which is why this is okay. trust me. this is okay. 
> 
> this is also the last chapter, so i'm marking it as complete, though i _am_ planning two epilogue-type chapters (one kuroo-centric and one tsukkiyama-centric) that will be attached to _this_ fic. i'm not making a series, so subscribe to this story if you want to updated when they come out, even though it's marked complete! also they're going to be short ( <5k, unless things get out of control) and might take a while since the semester is killing me, so don't wait up for them. i'm sorry.
> 
> since there are epilogues this isn't the real end, but i just want to say, thanks to everyone for reading and kudosing and commenting. i put a lot of time into this fic, for myself, but it was also somehow personal and hearing that it resonated with so many of you guys is amazing, in a way that's hard to put into words. the comments & messages i got especially were really thoughtful and a lot more than i expected. thank you so much, really.
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this one! as always, please leave a comment no matter what you felt or hit me up on [tumblr](https://inspireigen.tumblr.com) if that's what you prefer! and i know i literally just said this, but for real, guys - thanks.

A number of years ago, around a month after Kei started avoiding Akiteru and Akiteru started avoiding Kei, Yamaguchi's mother took Kei and Yamaguchi to an amusement park.

Kei hadn't wanted to go; around that time, Kei hadn't wanted to do much of anything. If it happened after Yamaguchi started acting nervous and hesitant around him, Kei isn't sure they'd still be friends. But at the time, Yamaguchi had no problem sticking to him like glue, inviting himself over like he used to, having one-sided conversations until Kei told him to be quiet. Even if they never openly spoke about what happened, Yamaguchi did what he could to make sure Kei didn't feel like he was alone. Kei is grateful for that, now.

But then... there was  _something_  that he felt when he saw Yamaguchi, something that was like poison in his veins. Seeing him pretend to smile, seeing him pretend they never found out that Karasuno's ace was the Little Giant... It was like some pathetic reflection of his older brother. Kei had never been one to hide his hatred of anything, and even if he promised himself some time before that he'd never purposefully be mean to Yamaguchi because of how small he was and how easily he cried, Kei couldn't bring himself to care enough to hold back his distaste. He started treating Yamaguchi the way he treated everyone, singling out Yamaguchi's insecurities and mocking him for them, wondering how far he'd have to go until Yamaguchi stopped  _pretending_.

It was like a burden being lifted from his shoulders, treating Yamaguchi like that, but Yamaguchi never stopped smiling, and Kei couldn't go all the way through with being cruel. Even at that point, when he'd only known him for a year, Yamaguchi was the person Kei was closest to out of everyone (he struck Akiteru off that list that day at the volleyball match). He knew that there were things he could say to make Yamaguchi cry or leave him alone forever, and he knew what they were, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. It was the same thing that stopped him from quitting volleyball after he found out about Akiteru; the day after they watched Karasuno, when Yamaguchi asked if he was still coming to practice, there was something that made it impossible for Kei to say no. 

Kei's never been a good friend or a kind person, but he's always known, so deep inside of him that it feels like an instinct, that he should never let Yamaguchi break. That more than anything, he shouldn't be the one breaking him.

No matter what sick pleasure Kei took in being cruel to Yamaguchi, no matter how much fun he had teetering on the brink of really hurting him, he knew that going that far wouldn't be worth the fallout.

Around the time Yamaguchi invited him, Kei was starting to get worried he was pushing Yamaguchi too far. That's the reason he said yes, but it didn't change the fact that Kei didn't want to go, that he found going out like that exhausting and that the eggshells he'd have to walk around when he was with Yamaguchi and his mother would make it even worse. Whatever their relationship was was none of Kei's business, and Yamaguchi would have agreed with that, considering how he always avoided talking about her.

Kei went to an amusement park one time before, with his mother and brother, and he'd disliked it so thoroughly that she'd never taken them again. With Yamaguchi, it went fine, at the beginning; Yamaguchi had been content just playing the carnival games, darts and water guns and strength tests and shrugging off all of Kei's jabs at his lack of skill. When Yamaguchi finally won something, he chose a weird-looking keychain shaped like a crab and pressed it into Kei's hands, telling him he could have it because he was so crabby.

After a while, Yamaguchi became set on going on the rides, and Kei let Yamaguchi take him on the stupid ones - the bumper cars, the carousels, the ferris wheels - but he refused to go on the rollercoasters, mostly because he'd lost his glasses the time he went on one with his brother. But Yamaguchi was adamant about riding one, which was strange because Kei would've thought a crybaby like him would've been too scared to. He told Yamaguchi that, and Yamaguchi only laughed.

When his mother's cell phone started ringing, Yamaguchi was still bothering Kei about rollercoasters, to the point where he was about to lose his temper. But before he could say anything, Yamaguchi's mother left to take the call, and Yamaguchi fell completely silent. They stayed like that, neither of them saying anything, until Yamaguchi's mother returned and asked if they'd be fine alone. Yamaguchi only smiled and said, "Yes." When she said she'd be back before dark and started walking away, Kei didn't answer or say goodbye, just watched his only friend's eyes start to sparkle in the worst way.

Yamaguchi turned to Kei after his mother disappeared, eyes still shining, fake smile still plastered on his face, and in that moment, more than any time he saw Yamaguchi open his mouth in the past month, Kei thought to himself that he'd do anything to not have to hear what Yamaguchi was about to say. So he closed his hand around Yamaguchi's right wrist and led him to his stupid rollercoaster, and - when Yamaguchi saw where they were, he blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they weren't as wet as they were before.

It felt better than provoking Yamaguchi ever felt.

For some reason, Kei's been thinking about that a lot.

* * *

"If it isn't my favorite grouchy underclassman," Kei hears Kuroo greet him over the phone, and he sighs.

"I'm going to hang up," Kei threatens. He won't, but it isn't as if he's got nothing else to do. Lately, he's been a little bit behind on his work, and even if that isn't that much of an issue, he still likes being ahead. He's been wasting a lot of time recently, and as much as he doesn't mind in the moment, he knows that time will catch up with him if he keeps being so careless. Still, calling Kuroo like this is something he needs to do; he's been forgetting to do it a lot, and postponing it any more would be embarrassing.

"Aw, don't do that," Kuroo says, and Kei can hear his fake pout over the phone. "Anyway, what are you doing calling me? You never do, you know."

Kei turns over in his bed. "You say that every time I call," he points out.

"So that makes twice, then?" Kuroo chuckles, his voice low. He sounds distracted; Kei wonders if he's doing something else. It's the same time they spoke on the phone last time, a couple of hours past dusk, but Kuroo's a busy person, far busier than Kei. He'd feel bad if he was interrupting, but not enough to hang up. He won't call again if they stop talking now. "You didn't answer my question," Kuroo points out, interrupting Kei's train of thought.

Ah, he noticed. It's embarrassing, but since it's the reason Kei called, he'll have to say it eventually. He bites his lip, and then opens his mouth. "Thank you... for... Yamaguchi," he says, his voice stilted. He hates doing things like this, but he owes Kuroo more than he can say, for what he did for him. He doesn't like to think about what he'd be doing if he didn't talk to Kuroo that night.

Kuroo's response is delayed by a second. It's either shock, or he really is distracted. "Eh? Didn't you say that already? I appreciate it, but the first time was enough. I'm sure it's hard for you."

Kei decides to ignore his last comment, which he knows Kuroo didn't mean as an insult. "I texted you. For something like what you did, I thought it was important that I... tell you. Myself."

It actually speaks to how little Kuroo expects from Kei that he thought the message Kei sent him was even adequate as a thank you. The night after Yamaguchi cried into his shoulder, he texted him  _me and yamaguchi spoke. everything is ok now. thank you._ Kuroo asked him for some clarification, but he didn't probe, and Kei never brought up their phone conversation again. After that, they returned to texting like they usually do, though Kei's been forgetting to respond until late. He'd feel guilty about it, but he thinks it's more convenient like this.

"If you get any cuter, I'm moving to Miyagi so I can hug you all the time."

"Excuse me?" Kei asks, making it clear from his tone that he heard Kuroo perfectly. He wishes he hadn't. It's the kind of image that could haunt him; Kei considers himself a realistic person, and he doesn't doubt for a second that trying to hug him all the time is something that Kuroo is capable of. Back when he and Kuroo used to spend their Sundays together in Kuroo's bedroom, Kei noticed Kuroo's strange fixation on cuddling, which he didn't expect considering everything about Kuroo. In fairness, when they do do that it's... kind of nice, like everything they do, but he also likes being able to move. 

Kuroo laughs, more amused by Kei's words than he usually is. "You heard what I said," he says, the smile still in his voice. "But... I'm glad you called. Really." He pauses, and Kei thinks about saying something like "no problem" or "it wasn't hard" even though he doesn't want to when Kuroo speaks again. "Ah... Anyway, what's up? Did you do anything fun today?"

"After practice, I went grocery shopping with Yamaguchi," he says. Yamaguchi mentioned that he needed to pick up groceries while they were changing in the club room, and Kei remembered his mother saying something like that, so he called her. On the way out of the store, Yamaguchi pressed a box of Apollo strawberry chocolate into his hand and said he saw him looking at them. Yamaguchi... really likes giving people things.

"That was fun?" 

It was. Kei does grocery shopping for his mother a lot, so he guesses it isn't as annoying to him as it might be to others, but that Yamaguchi was there made it almost enjoyable, maybe. It felt a little... better, than routine. But he isn't sure how to explain that to Kuroo, and he doesn't think he wants to. For a second, he's silent, until he finally settles on saying, "He bought me candy. Apollo chocolate." It doesn't really describe how he felt then but it almost does. Kuroo will find it funny, at least.

Sure enough, Kuroo starts laughing when Kei finishes speaking, and Kei doesn't mind, that Kuroo doesn't really get it. He knows it's too much for someone like him to explain, and it's not Kuroo's feeling, anyway. It's his.

"You're a weird kid, Tsukki, and I spend time with Bokuto and Yamamoto," Kuroo says when he finishes laughing. Kei wrinkles his nose. He's only joking, but Kei can't help but feel a little miffed. A comparison to Yamamoto is essentially a comparison to Tanaka, except Yamamoto has ridiculous hair. On the other hand, Bokuto... Kei doesn't even want to think about the implications of being compared unfavorably to him. "Oi, you better not have any cavities the next time I see you."  

"I'm not a child," Kei retorts in a way that's more routine than anything.

He expects Kuroo to say something about him being too skinny or eating breakfast the way he always does, but Kuroo doesn't speak. A moment passes, and Kei bites the inside of his cheek. He doesn't mind silence in real life, but to not be talking while holding a cellphone to your face seems impractical, at least. But speaking when he doesn't have anything to say is impractical, too. 

Normally, Kuroo is able to keep the conversation going, but he's distracted. Kei probably did pick a bad time, and Kuroo just didn't hang up because Kei never calls him. It sounds like something he would do. "Hm," Kuroo finally says, "but that's nice of him, isn't it? Yamaguchi." He pauses, and Kei doesn't say anything. Kuroo continues. "Since you like things like that. Strawberry, right?"

Strawberry.

It's funny, how easy it is for Kuroo to surprise Kei, but the truth is that Kei isn't paying attention. Kuroo, Yamaguchi... Earlier, Kei just brushed off Kuroo not understanding his meaning instead of realizing that there's not that much about him that Kuroo doesn't understand. Kuroo is... more observant than him, sometimes.

"You're... really happy now, Tsukki?" Kuroo asks, his voice slow and deliberate. Kei realizes he forgot to answer Kuroo earlier.

Kuroo is definitely more observant than him. Kuroo knows Kei likes strawberries, and he also knows... more than that. If Kuroo was his enemy, Kei thinks he'd be terrified, but Kuroo isn't his enemy, and... it's confusing, somehow. He knows he trusts Kuroo, far more than he's used to trusting people, but it's unsettling, knowing that he understands how Kei feels around Yamaguchi. It doesn't make sense that Kuroo understands it, because it's...  _Kei's_  feeling, and... he doesn't  _want_  Kuroo to understand it. He likes it the way it is, and he doesn't want to think too hard about it, doesn't want to know what other people think about it. He wants it to just be his.

Even though it's only because of Kuroo that he can feel it.

Kei breathes in softly, closes his eyes, and then opens them again. "I am," he finally says, wondering just how much Kuroo will be able to read into those two words. For a long time, there's silence, and Kei traces circles into his bedsheet. He's about to check if Kuroo hung up when he hears him finally speak again.

"I'm glad," Kuroo says.

* * *

Kei is watching Yamaguchi make coffee at 1-Eleven when rain starts beating down on the sidewalk.

They're lucky they're inside, at least. Usually they don't stop on the way to school, but Yamaguchi had shown up at his house fifteen minutes earlier than he usually does, half-dead. Apparently he'd stayed up late to wait for his mother to get home so they could watch the finale of a soap they'd been following together. Yamaguchi tried describing the finale to him, something about romance and evil aunts, but as many times as he's watched dramas with Yamaguchi, they're all essentially the same to him. He never understands them, at least. Or the appeal.

Yamaguchi had asked him if they could stop when they passed the convenience store, and they weren't late, so he didn't mind. Yamaguchi always complains about the canned coffee in the vending machines, anyway, and he didn't sleep at all last night. If Kei let him go to practice in the state he's in now, he's afraid a well-placed volleyball might give him a real concussion. 

"That's... bad, isn't it?" Yamaguchi says, glancing out the window and taking a sip from his paper cup. His nose wrinkles. Kei watches him put down his coffee and reach for another container of creamer.

"It's only rain," Kei replies. "They won't bother us if we're late, at least." Not that it's ever been that big of an issue. Daichi's never scolded them the couple of times they didn't come to practice on time, mostly because it rarely happens and they're never that late. Hinata, on the other hand, is awfully nosy and awfully loud, but he's always like that, even if he isn't asking about why they're late, so there's not really any difference.

Yamaguchi tosses the coffee stirrer he'd been using in the trash can. "You think we should wait for the rain to calm down?" he asks, reaching for a plastic cover.

"I don't see the point in loitering around a convenience store," Kei answers. The forecast said the rain wouldn't calm down until noon, anyway. "Don't you have an umbrella?" 

Yamaguchi doesn't look at him for a second, focusing on the drink he's holding by his chest. With both hands, he raises it to his mouth and takes a sip. After he swallows, he lowers the cup and smiles at Kei sheepishly. "Sorry, Tsukki."

"It's fine," Kei says. "I'll share with you." Kei shouldn't have expected anything, the state Yamaguchi was in this morning. Anyway, Yamaguchi forgets things like this a lot. When they were kids, Kei lent him so many pencils and jackets that he used to wonder how he survived before they became friends.

Yamaguchi smiles wider, and Kei looks at the floor. "Thanks!" Kei starts shuffling through his bag for the umbrella he always keeps on him. "Oh, uh... do you want something? I could get it for you! It's... too early for candy, though..."

Kei pulls out his umbrella and looks at Yamaguchi, who's stroking his chin, clearly deep in thought. Kei sighs. "Let's go," he says, and he almost leaves it at that, but he can't help but clarify, "I don't want candy at 5:30 AM." And... he likes things that aren't candy, too. But he knows Yamaguchi only fixates on his sweet tooth because he thinks it's funny, the same way he likes talking about his love of dinosaurs, so he doesn't say anything else. Honestly, as much as Kei likes Yamaguchi, he can be annoying, sometimes.

Yamaguchi laughs. "Sorry, Tsukki," he apologizes, still smiling. He raises his cup to his lips to sip his coffee, closing his eyes as he tastes it. When Kei watches him drink it like that, it almost makes him want to try some. Yamaguchi would let him, but Kei's had coffee before. It's... far too bitter. He wonders how someone as childish as Yamaguchi could enjoy it.

When he leads Yamaguchi out of the store and they're both standing under his umbrella, Yamaguchi moves over to Kei's left, so that he's standing between Kei and the street. Kei tsks. "What are you doing? You're not the lead in one of your dramas, you know."

Yamaguchi chuckles and grins at him lopsidedly. "Since you're holding the umbrella, I thought I could shield you, in case a car comes!" 

Kei almost laughs. He's a little miffed that for some reason in Yamaguchi's soap opera he's a damsel, and normally he'd point out that someone smaller than him wouldn't make an effective shield, but he can't bring himself to care enough about those things to say anything. He... likes Yamaguchi when he's like this. He likes that Yamaguchi's so easily influenced by those idiotic shows he watches that he tries to emulate them later. He even likes when Yamaguchi is absentminded and needs to rely on him for something, just a little bit. It reminds him of when they were kids, when Yamaguchi was happy and loud, not strange and insecure.

The Yamaguchi that smiles unabashedly when he says, "Sorry, Tsukki," in the least apologetic tone Kei's ever heard... He's annoying, but that's the Yamaguchi that Kei likes the best.

When Kei doesn't talk, Yamaguchi starts describing the show he'd watched the night before again, and Kei nods even though he can't wrap his head around it, tossing out his (mostly negative) commentary when the things Yamaguchi says get so convoluted that Kei starts to suspect he's making the story up as he goes. Yamaguchi just laughs.

After Yamaguchi's been talking for a while, Kei notices him get so caught up in what he's saying, waving his hands around even while holding a cup of coffee, that he's veering off to the side. "Be careful," Kei chides him just as a car comes speeding up the street next to them. Kei tugs on the side of Yamaguchi's shirt, pulling him towards the inside of the sidewalk. 

"Thanks! That car almost got me," Yamaguchi says, and it's not at all true (the car drove through a puddle, but it didn't come close to hitting either of them), but Kei doesn't point it out. Yamaguchi is smiling up at him, so close after Kei pulled him in, and there's something comfortingly isolating about the way they are now, huddled under the umbrella Kei's had since third grade as the rain pours down around them. The way they are now, Kei doesn't think he wants to say anything.

Later, when practice is over and Kei is watching Yamaguchi dig through his schoolbag for his lunch, Kei catches a glimpse of a bright red umbrella tucked behind a couple of notebooks. He doesn't say anything then, either.

* * *

Kei is sitting on the roof and listening to Yamaguchi try to calm a pointless argument between Hinata and Kageyama when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he realizes he forgot to put it on silent.

Lately, he hasn't really needed to, since Kuroo's gotten used to only texting him at night, too, but he'd gotten in the habit of doing it anyway. He takes out his phone, intending to turn it off, when he reads Kuroo's message (c _ome by on Sunday? :3_ ) and decides to just answer it now. He types out a reply ( _i'm busy that day. next week_ ) and he's about to put his phone on silent when Kuroo answers almost instantly. Kei reads Kuroo's message ( _i want to see you as soon i can. please Tsukki??_ ○几) and rolls his eyes at the stupid emoji. Kuroo really thinks it's funny to play the overbearing boyfriend... Kei wonders how he came into knowing so many strange people.

He's about to tell him to just wait and stop being annoying when he catches a glimpse of Yamaguchi, dogged between Kageyama and Hinata, and remembers something.

Weeks ago, when Kei asked Yamaguchi to walk home with him out of nowhere, when they hadn't gone home together for a long time, Yamaguchi gave him an excuse. But when Kei made it clear that it was something that was important to him... Yamaguchi didn't ask why. Yamaguchi said yes.

Kuroo isn't Yamaguchi, and Kei isn't Yamaguchi, but sometimes Kei thinks it'd be nice to be a little bit more like Yamaguchi, in some ways. If he could be anywhere near as good as Yamaguchi is to him to the people he likes, he'd... really like that, saccharine as the thought is. 

But Yamaguchi is Yamaguchi, and he told Yamaguchi earlier in the week that he'd go see some movie with all of them: Yamaguchi, Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi. When he said yes, he didn't especially want to, but he could tell that it was something Yamaguchi thought was important. He's always telling him he should be nicer to people (even though he always laughs at the mean things he says), and Kei never goes out with people in groups, unless Daichi's making the entire volleyball team go out together. So doing something like going out with all of them for Yamaguchi... it would make him happy. Kei knows it.

Ha. Kei never had problems like this before. But he knows things like these aren't really... problems. Where he is now is thousand times better than where he was three weeks ago. And yet...

Kei sighs and wonders what the hell he's doing. " _Things like these aren't really problems..."_  Of course they aren't. This in particular, it isn't even remotely something that should be a difficult decision. Spending this much time thinking about it is completely idiotic. He promised Yamaguchi he'd go with him first, but he's  _dating_  Kuroo, and even though he knows people aren't categorized into tiers of importance with "significant other" at the top and "best friend" just below it (even if Kei thinks "best friend" is insufficient to describe his relationship with Yamaguchi), he hasn't seen Kuroo in more than a week. He sees Yamaguchi every day, for most of the day.

It's true he likes to see Yamaguchi smile, and he likes it when it's him that's making him smile, but it's also true is that it's only because of Kuroo that he's able to see Yamaguchi smile. It's only because of Kuroo that Yamaguchi talks and doesn't always looks like he's on the verge of tears.

And that's not it. It's Kuroo who believed in him when he was about give up, it's Kuroo who causes that rising in his chest when he gets serious, it's Kuroo who taught Kei that he's even able to love the way he is, that he's able to maintain healthy relationships. It's Kuroo who he trusts and respects so much that he's able to do things that he was afraid to do before, as long as he's by his side. He likes to being with him, and... he wants to give Kuroo back just a little of what he did for him.

And it's Yamaguchi who taught him just how important, how satisfying that is.

Kei types out his reply, sends it, and turns off his phone.

* * *

 Kuroo meets Kei at the station, and instead of taking him to go eat or watch a movie like he usually does, he makes him get on a bus and takes him to a park with a volleyball court.

Kei isn't surprised when they get there; from the gym bag Kuroo had slung across his back, Kei figured he'd be taking him somewhere to play volleyball, even though he would've liked if Kuroo let him know what he was planning. But mostly, Kei doesn't really mind; Kuroo likes surprises (and from what he's seen in dramas, Kei thinks that kind of thing can be considered romantic), and Kei is used to letting him take the lead. Kuroo knows more than him about dating, anyway.

The park isn't that busy; the air is crisp and chilly, too cold for most parents to risk their children getting sick in that weather, but Kuroo's parents let him do whatever he wants and Kei's mom doesn't know where he is right now, anyway. The only other people at the park are a couple of older teenagers playing basketball in the court next to theirs and a woman playing with her dog. Kei thinks to himself that if Yamaguchi were here, he'd probably stare and bother Kei about how cute he thinks it is but never actually go up and ask the owner if he could touch it.

Kuroo tugs on Kei's sleeve, teases him about having a soft spot for dogs, and leads him to the court farther away from the basketball court. He drops his giant bag at the side of the fence and pulls out a volleyball, tossing it to Kei before he realizes what's happening. For a couple of hours, Kuroo helps him practice blocking, and - just a little bit - Kei remembers why he agreed when Kuroo told him that they'd be good together. When Kuroo is playing volleyball and he truly focuses, he's as captivating as an Olympic figure skater. Even though Kei fully intends on being just as good or better than Kuroo someday, when he sees Kuroo like this, he has to admit that they're cut from different cloths. Kuroo plays volleyball like it's what he was born to do.

When they finish, Kei feels a sense of accomplishment stronger than he usually does. It'd be embarrassing, to tell Kuroo that he enjoyed doing this in a way he's not used to enjoying volleyball, but Kei knows that it's the truth. Not that he'll tell him, but - he's glad that Kuroo called out to him at training camp that day. He's glad that they started doing this.

Later, after Kei emerges from the park showers, wearing a change of clothes that Kuroo lent him, Kuroo beckons him over to the bench he's waiting at, right next to the jungle gym that's empty now, the dog and its owner long gone. Kuroo hands him a bottle of water and tells him to sit down. When Kei does, Kuroo starts to speak. "You know," he says, arms slung over the back of the bench, staring absently in front of him, "when we were kids, I used to force Kenma to come here with me and play volleyball. He hated it, but he'd do it anyway." Kuroo laughs in a way that sounds almost insincere.

Kei twists the cap off his water bottle and takes a sip. What Kuroo's talking about is random, but Kei is used to it. Late at night, mostly through text, Kuroo sometimes waxes on about Kenma, mentioning strange things he does, sometimes to laugh about them and sometimes to just talk. When he gets like that, it's best to just let him continue, and Kei resolves to do that now, even if Kuroo's doing this earlier than he usually does. After the volleyball they played, it'd make sense for Kuroo to start acting the strange way he does when he's tired.

Kuroo gets distracted somehow, turning to watch Kei drink. "Speaking of that... how'd you get into volleyball, Tsukki? You're not the type, and you didn't seem to enjoy it when we met."

Kei doesn't speak for a second. He... doesn't want to. Talking about Akiteru, and that part of his life is... strange and slightly difficult, especially since Kuroo wasn't there for when he was like that. Still, it's  _Kuroo_ , so... "My older brother played it. I wanted to be like him." Kei bites his lip and thinks about leaving it there, but he can't. He owes Kuroo a lot, and that includes honesty. "I thought he was the greatest volleyball player in the world."

Kuroo laughs bitterly. "That makes sense," he says, and Kei gets the sense that it means more than he can tell, but he doesn't think he should ask.

They sit there without speaking for a while, watching the sun approach the horizon, and then Kuroo looks over at him.

"You need to go home soon, don't you?" Kuroo asks, leaning forward and swiping his bangs back. Kei is about to answer, but Kuroo starts talking again. "Tsukki... the reason I took you here, it's... it's because I used to come here all the time with Kenma. Or... that might be why I've never taken you here before." Kuroo's voice is hoarse, strained in a way Kei doesn't think he's ever heard. Kuroo won't look at him. "Every day of summer vacation, in the afternoon... you could find us here." Kuroo smiles, in a way that isn't forced, but isn't happy, either. "It was sometime around then, when I figured out that I was in love with him. I'm... still in love with him." 

In his mind, Kei sees a samurai lose his head.

"It doesn't matter. He has a crush on that number ten on your team, and he doesn't look at me that way. I'm like his older brother." Kuroo laughs. "You really do have a lot in common, don't you? Since you're not in love with me either."

Kei's never seen Kuroo like this. Curling his chest forward, propping his head up with an elbow on his knees. He didn't  _know_  Kuroo could be like this. It's... almost disgusting.

"When we met, I thought you needed someone to inspire you, and I thought that inspiration could translate to love. I... thought you needed someone to fall in love with. But that was me, and... you weren't that person, for me." He threads his fingers through his hair and keeps it there, so he's staring at the ground. "I really thought I could fall in love with you, you know? I never saw you as another Kenma. You were so cute, so funny... You were perfect." 

Kuroo closes his eyes, breathes out, and then opens his eyes again. 

"You  _are_  perfect. I do... love you, Tsukki. And I think you love me, too. But it's not the right way." Kuroo lowers his hand and leans back on the park bench, staring the pink-orange sky. "I'm the first person you ever dated, aren't I? I... took advantage of you. When we got together, I knew you weren't in love with me, but I thought you could be, eventually. But you already have someone. Ever since you had your fight with Yamaguchi, since we spoke on the phone that first time, I've known."

Kuroo glances at Kei expectantly. He doesn't say a word, and Kuroo looks away again.

"I should've done this a long time ago. It was only... when we were together, even if neither of us loved each other the right way, I didn't feel like I was alone. We had... something.  _I_ had something. But you deserve more than someone who isn't in love with you. You deserve more than someone you're not in love with." He sits up then, and turns to look at Kei. "I'm sorry, Tsukki."

Kuroo's eyes pierce into Kei, and he realizes that Kuroo won't let him off with saying nothing this time. This time, Kei has no choice but to play along, to finally end the facade they kept going for too long. But he won't give Kuroo everything. "I'm not in love with Yamaguchi," Kei finally says, because it's impossible, "but you're right, when you say I was never in love with you." Since he can't love like that anyway. Since he can't have a relationship like that anyway.

Every time Kei thought to himself that their relationship wasn't a real relationship, every time Kei thought to himself that he couldn't count this as proof that he was able to do something like this, he was right. Kuroo wasn't the one magic person he could have a working relationship with. Kuroo wasn't in love with him. And he wasn't in love with Kuroo.

He and Kuroo, they're... fantastic actors. But the play is over, and now they have to deal with reality.

Kei sees Kuroo open his mouth, and before he can speak, Kei stands up. "The sun is about to set," Kei says. "I need to go home."

* * *

"You know, I think practice in the morning and the afternoon is too much. Lately, I've been way too tired to run around in the morning. I think they should just make practice twice as long in the afternoon!" Yamaguchi bites his lip. "Oh, but I might pass out."

Kei sighs. Yamaguchi is acting strangely this morning. He's less talkative than he usually is, blatantly avoiding the topic of what he'd been doing the day before, randomly saying weird things like how they should change the structure of volleyball club. Kei's seen this act before, Yamaguchi trying desperately to pretend everything is normal even though it's clear he's going through something. Before, when they met Yachi the first time and Yamaguchi was dealing his brief infatuation, he was like this. But the way he is right now is more similar to the time right before he started disappearing, before Kei used to worry that-

Kei closes his eyes and breathes out. Just like then, it's his fault. He didn't think that cancelling their plans would affect Yamaguchi this strongly, but he's always known Yamaguchi is fragile, and he's... never been good, with things that are fragile. He promised himself after they spoke that he'd make it up to Yamaguchi somehow, but he doesn't think he has the energy to. He doesn't think he'd know what to do, anyway.

Still, at least Yamaguchi is trying. That's more than he did before. Even if whatever relationship they have now won't last, at least Yamaguchi is trying to preserve it as long as he can.

Yamaguchi turns around, sees Kei staring, and flashes him an exaggerated smile, one with a thousand emotions behind it but none of them even remotely seeming like happiness. Kei tries to smile back, and he watches Yamaguchi bite his lip.

Kei thinks to himself that he's absolutely awful at pretending. Kei would laugh, but that might unsettle Yamaguchi too.

"Huh... I kind of want french fries. It's been a long time since I got fast food. I've been trying to cook lately, but I think my mom's getting tired of pretending she likes the stuff I make," Yamaguchi says as they pass a family restaurant, after neither of them had spoken for a while.

Kei is... grateful, that he's trying. He looks at Yamaguchi. "We could go, if you want. After school."

Yamaguchi eyes widen, and his mouth settles into the shape of a small circle. "Oh, I- I can't, but..." He bites his lip. "Thanks, Tsukki," he says, the smile back on his face, and Kei can't help but think how terrible Yamaguchi is at faking happiness.

Kei thinks about asking why, but he's not sure he wants to know, even if Yamaguchi never says no to things like this, even if Yamaguchi overshares about his life to the point where it's more than abnormal that he's being so vague. As long as Yamaguchi is talking, Kei knows they'll be okay, for a... while, at least, and he doesn't want to think about things like where their friendship is headed if he can help it. He'd rather appreciate this moment, now; even if it's not perfect, Yamaguchi is next to him, at least.

They stay the same for the rest of the walk to school, Yamaguchi faking smiles and spontaneously making random statements and Kei acknowledging them. It's far from a real conversation, but it's also far from silence. As long as they both try, a little, they can keep this going for a bit longer.

Kei is thinking about this while they're walking into the gym and Yamaguchi is noting how they arrived a little bit later than usual. Kei is about to say something in response - nothing more than an "mhm" or "you're right" - when Yamaguchi looks away from him and calls out, "Yacchan!" and Kei's mind flashes back to every time Yamaguchi said he had to leave because he promised Yachi he'd help her with something, because Yachi offered to help him with something, because they planned to spend time together and Kei wasn't invited.

Kei knows Yachi is Yamaguchi's friend, and he knows Yachi and Yamaguchi genuinely like each other, but every time Yamaguchi says her name, Kei always gets paranoid that she's just an excuse. An excuse to get away from him, an excuse to-

Kei closes his eyes, breathes out, opens them again, and notices that Yachi hasn't turned away from her conversation with Shimizu, even though Yamaguchi is well within earshot. Kei watches Yamaguchi lower the arm he waved in greeting to rub his neck, watches as Yamaguchi turns to smile sheepishly at him. "She's, uh... mad at me," Yamaguchi says, laughing almost nervously.

The way Kei and Yamaguchi are now, that's probably a stroke of luck.

* * *

It gets worse, and Kei isn't surprised.

Every morning, Yamaguchi is at his door like clockwork, and every lunch period, they're on the roof with Hinata and Kageyama, but everything else disappears. After school, there's always a teacher to meet or a chore to do for his mom that he couldn't possibly ask Kei to tag along for. It's kind of funny that Yamaguchi doesn't even want to use Kei as a last resort for when Yachi won't talk to him; he'd rather talk to no one. It really is just like before.

Or it... isn't  _just like_  before. The kind of sadness Yamaguchi is masking is different from the sadness he saw weeks ago, the one that made Kei worry that Yamaguchi might break if he stayed with him any longer. He doesn't seem as... defeated, somehow. When Kei and Yamaguchi are alone, and Yamaguchi laughs or smiles, sometimes, Kei feels certain down to his bones that there's real happiness behind it. That sometimes, being around Kei genuinely makes Yamaguchi happy.

It doesn't change the fact that Yamaguchi doesn't want to be his friend. "Sometimes" doesn't trump "always," and Yamaguchi always has an excuse when practice ends or when Sunday comes around.

This... shouldn't be upsetting him so much. He figured out that this would happen weeks ago, before all of it - before forcing Yamaguchi to walk home with him, before he made Yamaguchi cry in front of his house - and he let himself believe for a second, that he was a different kind of person. But just like a lot of things he let himself believe in the past couple of weeks, it wasn't true.

He and Yamaguchi are better off like this, anyway. They're different, and Yamaguchi's fragile. No matter how much Kei likes Yamaguchi, no matter how kind Yamaguchi is, Kei can't suddenly become someone else. He wishes he could; he wishes he could be somebody like Yachi or Hinata or even Kageyama if it meant that he could keep being Yamaguchi's friend, but he  _can't_. He spent too long lying to himself, and he won't anymore. He needs to face reality.

After all, trying to pretend he and Yamaguchi could keep up their relationship as anything closer than a friend he knows from school would make him as bad as Kuroo, and being that pathetic... Kei is sure that would be worse than being alone.

* * *

Kei lowers his headphones to his neck and breathes a sigh of relief. For some reason, listening to music has been giving him a headache lately, but it's easier for Kei to deal with that than the silence on the way home. It's... tiring, somehow. Recently, everything has been tiring. All he wants to do is watch television and sleep, but somehow, doing that makes him feel even worse.

It doesn't matter. The difference between bad and worse isn't enough for Kei to change the way he does things, and he doesn't have the energy to do anything else anyway.

Kei slips off his shoes without bending down and wanders into his house. His mother isn't in the kitchen or living room; she's probably out getting groceries or visiting the women she likes to gossip with around the neighborhood. Kei is happy about that; whenever he starts acting differently than he usually does, it makes his mother worry, and he doesn't like it when she gets like that. She's been dealing with him for a long time, just like Akiteru, and she never minds most of the things he does, so when she does get worried for him... Anyway, what he's going through now has nothing to do with her.

When he gets to his room to change out of his uniform, he finds his backpack from middle school sitting on his desk. His mother had been talking about cleaning out their old storage closets earlier and donating things they don't need, so she probably just wanted him to tell her if he still wanted it. Still, what bad luck. It's the last thing he wants to look at right now. Taking that trip down memory lane after everything that's happened would be like pulling off a scab and watching the blood trickle out.

Kei takes off his uniform jacket and tosses it so it covers the bag, and as he changes he piles the rest of his uniform his desk as well. He doesn't feel like hanging up his clothes and straightening them out like he usually does, and having all the things he has to deal with later in the same place will be more convenient when it's time for him to take care of those things.

Right now, though, he can be content pushing those things to the last minute. Or... not exactly content, but Kei doesn't feel like wasting time on meaningless semantics. After he's done putting on more comfortable clothes, he folds his glasses, leaves them on his night-table, and lays on his bed.

The way he is now, Kei feels a little bit lighter. It's the difference between seventy-five pounds and a hundred, but he'll take what he can get. After all, when he's on his bed like this, glasses off, he can't count the cracks in his ceiling. He can't look at the things on his shelves and think about what they remind of, or look at the floor next to his bed and remember all the times he looked down and there was a skinny freckled boy sprawled across it. He wonders what it would be like to be able to go everywhere like this; to be able to speak to people and not recognize the emptiness in their smiles, the vulnerable shining in their eyes. To be able to have a conversation and just have it be a conversation, with none of the nuances behind it.

It's his powers of observation that set Kei apart from others, but these days, they feel almost like a curse.

Kei breathes out. What a stupid thought. He closes his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind. There are afterimages of light from his window burned into the black, and before they can fade, Kei opens his eyes. Darkness like that, at this time of day, is deafening, somehow. Just like complete silence. It's the reason he doesn't pull down his shades and he put batteries back into his wall clock. ( _He took them out before because the ticking made it hard for Yamaguchi-_ )

If Kuroo felt like this before he started dating Kei, Kei thinks that he almost understands why he spent so long submerging them both in his ridiculous delusion. But the fact that he can relate to Kuroo at all, especially regarding what he did, is kind of disgusting.

Disgusting... No. Not disgusting. Pathetic. 

Ha.

...What the hell is he doing? Getting home and immediately laying on his bed, taking what he can get just to feel a little bit better - even when better means less terrible, not even  _good_  - sympathizing with  _Kuroo_. Why is he letting himself do this?

A long time ago, Yamaguchi called him uncool, and this - exactly what he's doing right now - this is why.  _Pride_. Kei doesn't have a lot of things; he doesn't have the ability to be a good friend or be a good person or have close relationships without having them implode, but no matter what, he still has pride. After everything, it's one of the last things he has left.

At least when Yamaguchi was disappearing, when Kei was ignoring Kuroo, Kei was still doing  _something_. Lately, he's even been doing worse in volleyball, not to mention all the work he's behind on. Because all he does is sleep, or watch television, or stare at the ceiling and think how nice it is to not have to count the cracks. He didn't even hang his goddamn uniform. Not to mention that if his mother catches on, she'll be-

Kei sits up in his bed. Whatever heavy feeling of exhaustion that stopped him from doing  _anything_  has disintegrated and been replaced by a fierce sense of revulsion that carries Kei to his desk, that makes Kei pick up his clothes and hang them up (which isn't even remotely an accomplishment), that makes Kei pick up his old schoolbag-

And hanging from the zipper of smallest front pocket, Kei sees a dirty, slightly deformed metal crab.

Just like that, Kei is twelve years old again, standing next to Yamaguchi in that amusement park and making fun of his bad coordination, watching as Yamaguchi finally knocks over a milk bottle and gives the only thing he's won to Kei, even though he's been difficult the entire time. Kei is twelve years old again, and he's standing next to Yamaguchi in the balcony of a gym they've never been to before, making eye contact with his older brother in the stands. Kei is twelve years old again, and Yamaguchi won't leave him alone, no matter what excuses he gives, no matter how terrible he must be to be around.

Kei is twelve years old again, and Yamaguchi is doing everything he can to make sure Kei knows he isn't alone.

Things are different now. Kei knows that. They're not kids anymore. He's known that since Yamaguchi started acting strange around him, or- No. Since before that. Since he started seeing flashes of pain in Yamaguchi's eyes after he accidentally says something cruel, since he started seeing Yamaguchi hesitate to say things to him. Things changed months ago, even before Yamaguchi stopped talking to him, and Kei is certain that if Yamaguchi never got so extreme that he started distancing himself from him, he would have been content to let Yamaguchi stay like that - teetering on the verge of broken - for the rest of their friendship. It's only that- if Yamaguchi's becoming more fragile, more nervous, and Kei's been alongside him the entire time... part of it, at least, must be his fault.

But he realized that a long time ago, and Yamaguchi let him back in again, just like when they were kids. He... wanted everything to be just like when they were kids, when Yamaguchi was always talking and laughing, and when he wasn't, Kei was enough to fix whatever was wrong. He could make Yamaguchi's bullies go away with a word, he could make Yamaguchi forget about his mother by going on a rollercoaster with him... and he could make whatever was upsetting Yamaguchi go away just by putting in a little bit of effort in being his friend.

God, he really is just as bad as Kuroo was. He did see it, even before Kuroo broke up with him, the way Yamaguchi would bite his lip before following after Kei, the sadness in Yamaguchi's eyes when he looked at Kei when he thought he couldn't see. He just didn't  _want_  to see it, so he-

That's why he got so angry at Kuroo, wasn't it? Because he and Kuroo are exactly the same, except Kuroo had the balls to admit it and  _stop doing it_. Because when Kuroo stopped playing the game, he had to stop, too. He had to stop pretending he was the kind of person who could be a good friend, who could be the kind of person you'd want to know forever. He had to stop pretending that being anything more than a temporary fixture in Yamaguchi's life wouldn't hurt him.

But that doesn't  _matter_. He  _knows that already_. Eventually Yamaguchi will get tired of him. Eventually Yamaguchi will leave him. But that doesn't have to be  _today_. Right now, Yamaguchi still smiles when he's with him. He still laughs when he's with him. For once... the problem is bigger than him.

Yamaguchi is hurting now, and when Kei was hurting, when Kei was terrible and cruel and quiet, Yamaguchi never gave up on him. Yamaguchi did everything he could to make sure he was okay. Yamaguchi deserves that. Yamaguchi deserves  _more_  than that.

Maybe Kei doesn't know how to be good, how to support people, but he  _wants_  to. He doesn't care about pride anymore, he doesn't care about pretending, he- he doesn't even care if Yamaguchi  _likes_  him. He just wants Yamaguchi to be happy. Even if he is a terrible person, just for now, just for this, he wants to  _change_. Kuroo said he could, before, and Kei believed him, but he was lying, but... as well as Kuroo knows him, he doesn't dictate who he is. Whatever Kuroo thought of him, the kind of person Kei is, how cruel he's been - it doesn't matter. None of it matters. 

If it's to make Yamaguchi happy, there's nothing Kei can't do.

Kei removes the keychain from the zipper, picks up the schoolbag he's been using, and attaches it to the strap.

* * *

"Yachi-san," Kei says when Yachi leaves the club room with Shimizu, and he sees her immediately jump. He thinks about trying to smile at her, but remembers the way Yamaguchi usually reacts when he pretends to smile and decides against it.

It's after practice, and Yamaguchi went ahead of him, saying something about how he wanted to study in the library even though Kei knows he doesn't study until the last minute. Kei let him go. He has something else to do today.

"Tsukishima-kun!" Yachi says, smiling at him politely. She's reacting better than she did when he asked her to help tutor Yamaguchi ages ago; she backed up when he went to speak with her then, like he was a large predator who was easily startled and had bad eyesight. It was only when he asked her to help Yamaguchi that she calmed down and stopped being afraid of him. Even though she'd only known Yamaguchi for a short time at that point, it was clear she cared about him. Kei thinks Yamaguchi has that effect on people, when you get to know him.

Yachi likes him now, he thinks. To some extent. She gets worried whenever he makes fun of Hinata or Kageyama, but she smiles when they accidentally make eye contact, which is something, at least. "Can I speak to you? Not here," he says. She studies his face for a second, and he adds, "It's important."

"Ah... Okay," Yachi says, and she turns around to tell Shimizu to go ahead.

Kei leads her to the Foothill Store in silence and buys her a meat bun she didn't ask for. When they sit down on a bench outside, he finally asks her, "Why are you mad at Yamaguchi?"

Yachi's bottom lip sticks out and her eyes narrow. "He told you?" she asks, in a tone Kei didn't know she could speak in. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Kei is completely taken aback. He's not used to having conversations like this, especially with people he barely knows, but Yachi is nice. Yamaguchi says that a lot, and when he'd asked her for help with Yamaguchi before, she'd agreed to do it. He knows that she cares about Yamaguchi, so he doesn't really understand why she's acting like this. He didn't even know she could act like this. "He mentioned it," Kei finally says, "but whatever fight you're having, I think it's affecting Yamaguchi."

Suddenly, the irritation in Yachi's face dissipates, her irritated pout morphing into a small frown. She bites her lip and looks at Kei, wide-eyed. "Tsu-Tsukishima-kun, if Yamaguchi-kun is acting strange, it's not... me. I'm mad at him, but that's not- Even if we start talking again, he won't... go back to the way you want him to be." She shifts her gaze to the ground. "What he's going through right now, he needs to solve it himself. He should learn to stand on his own, now, right?"

Yamaguchi likes Yachi. Yachi likes Yamaguchi. Kei knows that, that they're close friends, that Yamaguchi talks to her about things he doesn't talk to him about, that Yamaguchi  _trusts_  her. Kei  _knows_  that, but-

He can't help but feel that she doesn't deserve it. That the way she's speaking now, it sounds like she doesn't know Yamaguchi at all. Like she doesn't care about Yamaguchi at all.

Kei breathes slowly for a second, knowing he'll lose his temper if he answers immediately, and then says, in a slow, deliberate tone, "When Yamaguchi was younger, Yachi-san, he was small and skinny. Did you know that? It was like he had a target on his back." He pauses and breathes again, so as not to raise his voice. "He was bullied every day, and everyone just  _watched_. The only people who spoke to him were people who hated him. He-" Kei stops himself from gritting his teeth. "He knows enough about standing on his own."

Yachi scrunches her mouth. "That's- That's not true!" she insists. " _You_  didn't just watch. You helped him. He... told me, the way that you met." She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and looks away from him. "And he didn't say anything about a few weeks ago, but the reason he's better now, it's... you, right?" Her eyes close, and when she opens them, she looks straight at Kei, her gaze soft, pitiful in the worst way. "I'm happy you care about Yamaguchi-kun, but... you can't solve his problems for him. Especially this one."

Yamaguchi and Kei are different kinds of people. Kei's always known this; it's why Kei knows he won't know Yamaguchi forever, that Yamaguchi will leave him someday. But even knowing that, he doesn't want- out of both of them, he'd never want  _Yamaguchi_  to change. Even if it would mean that he and Yamaguchi could always be close, he'd never want Yamaguchi to change like that. Yamaguchi is soft, the kind of softness you can't believe can even exist, and even though Kei thinks in words like "fragile" and "weak" and "pathetic," Yamaguchi isn't any of those things. Yamaguchi's never been any of those things. Yamaguchi is the kind of soft that withstands Kei's cruelty just to be kind. That's its own kind of strong.

To change it, to make Yamaguchi more like him, and to do that by letting him get hurt... Kei would rather die.

"I'm not going to watch Yamaguchi suffer," Kei says, and he can't help the way his fist clenches at his side or the slight emphasis he puts on "I" ( _because what right does she have to call herself Yamaguchi's friend when she doesn't even-_ )

"I _know_ how you feel! That's why I helped you before, but-" Yachi bites her lip, and her cheeks puff up just slightly as her eyes narrow. "But if you didn't do whatever you did, a month ago, he'd be exactly the same, Tsukishima-kun! You know he would be! And I- I don't mind listening to him, but he doesn't- he doesn't  _do_  anything, he just-"

Yachi abruptly stops, and Kei can tell she didn't mean to say what she did. Kei can  _feel_  it, too, that she's said too much; even if he wants to defend Yamaguchi and argue with her, he doesn't think he has the right to. The Yamaguchi she's talking about, the boy who complains too much and doesn't act, he's completely foreign to Kei. He's the Yamaguchi Kei isn't allowed to know. In five years, Yamaguchi never even spoke to him about his  _mother_ -

He wonders what it is that's so different about Yachi ( _even though he knows the answer_ ), and it burns something like jealousy, but at the same time it's not that at all. He feels like there's a hole carved into his chest, like there's something tugging at him, asking him how the hell he's supposed to help Yamaguchi if he doesn't rely on him, if he doesn't even  _like_  him, if he's never done these things before and-

And it doesn't matter, and he's thought these things a thousand times before and been certain of them for ages, and if he lets himself get discouraged now, then he won't ever repay Yamaguchi for what he's done for him.

"I'll- I'll talk to Yamaguchi-kun again," Yachi eventually says, like a peace offering. "Not... tomorrow, but our argument now, it- it isn't enough for me to stop being his friend. I'm sorry I can't help more, but... he needs to do this himself. Just... Yamaguchi-kun, he isn't the bullied kid you met on the playground anymore, so... won't you trust him? If you wait a while, I'm sure things will turn out okay!"

Yachi stands up, but Kei can't let her leave just like that. "What if they don't? What if Yamaguchi..."  _What if Yamaguchi breaks?_  For some reason, Kei can't bring himself to finish the thought.

"There's... nothing either of us can do, Tsukishima-kun. But..." Yachi smiles, just slightly, and looks down. "Yamaguchi-kun is really important to you, huh? It's... Yamaguchi-kun feels the same way about you." She pauses and turns to meet Kei's eyes. "I think, no matter what happens to Yamaguchi-kun, if you're there for him, if he knows you care about him... I think he'll be fine."

Kei watches Yachi walk away and wonders just how much of what she said was the truth.

* * *

Yamaguchi grins at Kei, his uniform wrinkled and sloppy, his undershirt peeking out from under the jacket of his uniform. "Uh, I have to go buy milk, so I'll see you tomorrow morning, Tsukki!" he says, starting to turn around and leave.

Kei hastily pulls on his uniform jacket, and slings his bag over his shoulder. "I'll come with you," he says, following after Yamaguchi before the club door shuts behind him.

Surprise colors Yamaguchi's expression, his eyes wide, but there's something else, too, something like discomfort. He looks away from Kei. "You didn't button your jacket," he says, playing with the end of his undershirt. "And you don't have to come. I- I don't want to... bother you."

The words sting in a way that they shouldn't. If it's a lie, it's one of Yamaguchi's worst, but Kei would prefer it that to it being the truth. Yamaguchi's never cared about bothering Kei, from the teasing to the touching to the following, and even if he does get insecure sometimes, that'd he go so far as to-

No. Kei knows he said worse when they were younger, and Yamaguchi never gave up on him. He shouldn't take these things personally. "I need milk, too," Kei lies.

"O-Oh," Yamaguchi says, chewing on the inside of his lip, "okay." His voice is tentative, hesitant in a way that makes Kei's skin crawl. He looks at Kei for a second, and then turns away and starts walking down the stairs. His pace is faster than usual, like he's releasing some kind of pent-up nervousness, but it's not fast enough for Kei to have trouble keeping up with him. "Your jacket is still open," Yamaguchi mumbles.

Kei looks down and sees that he's right, though he doesn't understand Yamaguchi's fixation. He's not sure what Yamaguchi wants him to say, that he was about to leave and if he took the time to get dressed like he usually does Yamaguchi would have left him in the dust? He can't say things like that. "Oh," he finally settles on saying, and when they reach the bottom of the stairs, Kei starts buttoning his uniform as they walk.

The atmosphere between them is thick, and Yamaguchi isn't in the right mood to try to break it. Kei needs to do something, to say something. What would Yamaguchi say? Those afternoons he followed him home, what did he say?

"What we're doing in geometry, it's... easy, isn't it? That's good," Kei says, every word coming out of his mouth feeling like an individual battle with himself. He absolutely hates speaking when he doesn't have anything to say, but what he's doing now is more important than what he hates doing and what he likes doing. Anyway, even if he does like to be next to Yamaguchi, everything he's been doing isn't exactly something he enjoys, anyway.

Yamaguchi just looks at him for a second, and Kei starts to think that he might've said the wrong thing, even though he thought his comment was relatively innocuous, but then Yamaguchi's cheeks puff up and half a minute later, he breaks into open laughter. "You're so weird, Tsukki," he says, and his smile is so wide that any annoyance Kei might have felt at his words dissipates.

"But it's true," Kei points out, and Yamaguchi grins at him lopsidedly.

"I've been studying a lot, so I think I agree with you," Yamaguchi says, his finger thoughtfully positioned at the corner of his chin, "but I still don't like paying attention in class." He laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kei almost rolls his eyes. He has firsthand experience with how bad Yamaguchi is at paying attention. "If you listen in class, you won't have to study so much," Kei says, and Yamaguchi finds that almost as funny as the last thing he said.

"Okay, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, singing his nickname in a cutesy way, and Kei's about to respond, but they approach the grocery store and he gets distracted. The store isn't that busy on weekdays, but the women that buy fruit by the outside stands tend to like to loiter and gossip, and Kei sometimes accidentally pushes them if he isn't paying attention.

Kei almost forgot he'd come with Yamaguchi under the pretense of needing milk. He'd been acting so normally that Kei felt like they were just walking home like they used to. He's lucky, though, that he realized it before Yamaguchi could have noticed anything.

Ah, but what were they talking about? Studying? He's happy Yamaguchi wasn't blatantly lying about that, but the fact that he is studying is... strange, at least. Yamaguchi's always been an amiable kind of irresponsible; throughout the time Kei's known him, things tended to work out for him, and it seemed like he'd gotten used to it. He said something a while ago about grades, didn't he? "Yamaguchi, your mother... she could make you quit volleyball?"

Kei thought that stopped being an issue; when he tutored Yamaguchi, his head was in the clouds, and he knows that he's able to devote himself to something if it's important. His rate of improvement on his float serve proves it. That it didn't matter to him enough to make him pay attention made Kei think whatever had come up between him and his mother had cleared.

Yamaguchi stops walking and turns to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed. "Eh?" he says, just staring, and a grumpy middle-aged man knocks into him with a shopping cart. "Ow- about my grades? It's-" He bites his lip. "Yes- Oh... no. You don't have to- it's fine." He doesn't say anything for a second, and Kei is debating over whether or not he should point out just how fine he seems when Yamaguchi smiles. "Thanks for worrying."

Yamaguchi turns around and starts to walk again. "It's no problem," Kei mutters, and he thinks Yamaguchi doesn't hear him over the grocery store chatter, but he turns around just slightly and flashes him a grin.

When they get to the dairy aisle, Yamaguchi's hand brushes against Kei's as they reach for a half-gallon of milk, and his skin is warm and soft, and the second Yamaguchi realizes they're touching he recoils like he's just been burned, his whole body jumping completely back from Kei.

Three weeks ago, Yamaguchi fell asleep on his shoulder. Kei knows they were pretending then and looking back at it wistfully is only pretending even more, but watching Yamaguchi move so quickly away from him, like touching him is some disgusting thing Yamaguchi shouldn't ever do, it... hurts, in a way Kei can't rationalize. Kei knows that at his worst he's said terrible, horrible things to Yamaguchi, things that must have made him feel far worse than Kei feels right now, but that doesn't change the fact that the way Kei feels right now is the loud and raw and completely unlike the kind of pain he's gotten used to dealing with.

How did Yamaguchi... How did he ever do this?

"Here, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, holding out half a gallon of milk, his right arm completely outstretched. Kei realizes Yamaguchi must have picked up another one while he wasn't paying attention. Kei reaches for it, and he knows he should say thank you, but he can't stop thinking about how he has to reach so far when Yamaguchi's arm is out like that, how far apart they're standing from each other, and he can't make himself say a word.

They line up at the self-checkout, and when Kei is done and he's watching Yamaguchi rip his receipt from the machine, Yamaguchi turns to him and says, "Thanks for coming with me."

And it doesn't go away, the pain from before, but Kei realizes there's something else there, too, something that's been there for a while. The feeling he'd tried to describe to Kuroo over the phone ages ago has taken up residence in his chest.

"You should come over," Kei says, and the words feel foreign on his tongue, and they’re almost impossible to say after the rejection he’d felt earlier, but he doesn’t want this to end now. “My mother has been asking why she hasn't seen you after school."

"I..." Yamaguchi starts to say, and Kei starts to worry about what will happen if he says no, about whether or not he'll have the strength to insist or even do this tomorrow, if he'll have to stop this thing he's been trying to do before he's even begun, if he'll have to accept that he'll never be as good as Yamaguchi. But Yamaguchi doesn't say no. Yamaguchi bites his lip and says, "Okay."

A while ago, Kei wouldn't have had to ask Yamaguchi to come over, but... he thinks that, for now, this is almost good enough.

When they reach Kei's house, he goes to his bathroom and washes his face. As much as he likes being with Yamaguchi, as much as this is better than what he's been doing, it's exhausting, to speak the way he's been speaking, and it's conflicting, almost. Since what happened at the grocery store, Kei can't help but be hyper-aware of the way Yamaguchi makes sure there's a healthy distance between them, the way he reserves the way he usually swings his arms just to avoid touching him. Yamaguchi still smiles and laughs whenever Kei says something he thinks is funny, but Kei can't help but wonder what's so terrible about him that Yamaguchi has to such incredible lengths to avoid-

Kei picks up a towel and wipes his face.

When he goes back out, he finds Yamaguchi standing awkwardly in his kitchen, studying the family pictures his mother hung on their fridge ages ago. He jolts away from the fridge after noticing Kei in the room, and smiles at him nervously. "I put the milk away."

Kei doesn't think much of it at first; of course he would, and Yamaguchi's seen those pictures and made fun of him already. Funny to see the person who knew you as a child tease you about how cute you were, but Kei's used to it, even though he knows he was already too tall to be cute, then. Not that he was ever cute.

But if Yamaguchi opened his refrigerator, he must have seen the almost-full gallon of milk he'd bought for his mother a couple of days ago. He must have realized that Kei was lying about the whole thing, that he just wanted to spend time with him, but Yamaguchi hasn't-

"In the refrigerator?" Kei finally asks, and he can hear how inane his question sounds, but Yamaguchi doesn't tease him or laugh. Instead, his eyes widen for a second, like he's catching himself in a mistake, and then nods. Kei realizes then that he  _knows_ , that he noticed the milk and didn't think nothing of it. He put everything together, but he's not going to point it out.

Kei wonders if what they're doing now is just as bad as before, just a different kind of pretending, but this is bigger than being pathetic. It's about Yamaguchi, and even if Yamaguchi won't touch him, even if Yamaguchi makes sure he's as far away from Kei as possible, sometimes, when Kei speaks, Yamaguchi laughs. He only wants Yamaguchi to laugh. The rest of it doesn't matter.

"Do you want to watch TV?" Kei eventually says, and a couple of minutes later, he and Yamaguchi are sitting on the opposite ends of his couch and Yamaguchi's happy chatter about the soap opera Kei let him put on fills the room. They stay like that for a long time, watching Yamaguchi's weird television shows, Yamaguchi nervously glancing at him periodically and laughing after Kei makes fun of something on the television.

Later, about half an hour after sending Yamaguchi home, Kei opens his refrigerator to get a glass of water and sees the half-gallon of milk Yamaguchi had made such a big deal about in the fridge.

That's fine; Kei has an excuse to invite him over tomorrow.

* * *

The next day, Yamaguchi walks home with Kei to pick up the milk, but he says he can't stay because he needs to go home and study. Kei tells him to study with him there, and Yamaguchi replies that he can only study in silence. Eventually, Yamaguchi ends up studying at the desk in his room while Kei lies on his bed and pores over the old monthly shounen magazines his brother still gets delivered at home. It lasts for about an hour; Yamaguchi gets distracted when he sees the manga Kei is reading, and he ends up talking to Kei about the manga he's been keeping up with for the rest of the time at his house.

The day after that, while they're changing in the clubroom, Yamaguchi tells him to go ahead because he has a teacher he has to meet. It doesn't remotely make sense, because Yamaguchi keeps his head down better than everyone Kei knows (other than Narita and Kinoshita), but Kei just tells him he'll wait for him by the shoe lockers. When they walk home together and Kei invites Yamaguchi in, Yamaguchi doesn't protest. Kei's mother makes him stay over for dinner, and Yamaguchi inhales the food like he hasn't had a home-cooked meal in ages.

On the walk home the next day, Yamaguchi tells him he has to go home because his mom asked him to listen to a boring radio show so they could compete in a call-in contest for a free blender, and Kei replies that they have a radio in his house. Yamaguchi loses the contest because he missed the call signal after laughing too hard at one of Kei's sarcastic comments, but he doesn't seem to mind, the way he's smiling when he goes home.

It continues like that until it becomes the norm, and it's a feeling Kei can't quite capture. When he and Yamaguchi are alone and Yamaguchi is laughing, Kei almost forgets about everything that made him insecure, just thinks about how happy he is that he started doing this, even if it's hard. But it...  _is_  hard, and Kei can't avoid that fact for long. When Yamaguchi lunges away from him so they don't accidentally touch, when Yamaguchi won't even sit next to him on his bed, it still hurts, every individual time.

And sometimes he thinks Yamaguchi is happy when he's with him, and he  _must_  be, because how could a smile like that be fake, but when it's time to go home from practice, Yamaguchi always has an excuse for why he can't spend more time with him. It isn't like it's not easy enough for Kei to work his way around it, and he knows Yamaguchi could just tell Kei to leave him alone and he would, but he can't understand why he spends time coming up with ridiculous excuses. Kei knows Yamaguchi has to enjoy spending time with him - he's never seen him laugh like that with anyone else - but he wonders sometimes, if he's just pressuring Yamaguchi into doing something he doesn't want to do.

But sometimes, Yamaguchi smiles and Kei sees the sun, and he thinks that as long as Yamaguchi can smile like that when they're together, Kei won't let him go just yet.

* * *

"Eh, I'm tired," Yamaguchi complains, taking off his shoes and dropping his grocery bags by the foot of his kitchen table.

Kei follows after him, walking carefully and picking up the bags. "You should have let me help you carry these," he says. "And don't leave them on the floor."

It's Saturday, and today's excuse was that Yamaguchi wanted to practice making oyakodon for his mother's birthday, so Kei should just go home. He knew this one was true from the beginning; Kei remembers Yamaguchi getting excited around this time of year, asking things like what Kei did for his mother's birthday (which was only getting her a card, because he was in middle school and didn't get an allowance) and looking at the stuffed animals in store windows and asking Kei which one he thought his mother would like best. 

Kei wasn't sure he'd be able to get around this one, since he'd only been to Yamaguchi's house a handful of times in the time he's known him, but when Kei offered to help him cook, Yamaguchi was surprisingly compliant. He argues less and less now, but the fact that he still argues tugs at Kei, sometimes.

"I'm gonna get stronger, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi says. "Anyway, you have noodle arms." He laughs to himself after that, and then goes to his living room and comes back with a laptop in hand and bangs clipped back. Kei wants to laugh; you would've thought he'd get the idea to do that playing volleyball. 

Kei sits next to him at the kitchen table as he pulls up a video of a television chef. "Isn't this complicated?" Kei asks, and Yamaguchi grins at him.

"The last time I tried to make it, it came out kind of strange, but I think it might work out this time!" Yamaguchi stands up then and starts going through his cabinets, pulling out bowls and spices and oils. Kei just watches the video.

After a while, Yamaguchi is standing next to him again, holding a bottle of mirin dangerously loosely. Kei tells Yamaguchi to be careful, and he just laughs and leans over the computer, mouthing numbers to himself. A minute later, Yamaguchi screws open the bottle and pours some of it into a small bowl. "That looks like six tablespoons, right?" he asks, and Kei sighs.

"Shouldn't you measure it?" Kei says, and Yamaguchi smiles at him like a child with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I don't know where my mom keeps the measuring stuff," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can probably eyeball it, though!"

Kei rolls his eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Yamaguchi," he says. "If it's in your house, you should use it. You can't cook anything right like that anyway."

Yamaguchi tries to tell him that it kind of worked out last time, but Kei just stands up and rifles through Yamaguchi's kitchen cabinets, ignoring Yamaguchi's protests that he looked for measurement tools already and that Kei wasn't going to find anything anyway. After fifteen minutes, Kei finds them inside a stack of pots in the back of his oven, and he swears he sees stars in Yamaguchi's eyes when he takes them out.

After that, Kei makes sure Yamaguchi does things the normal way and ensures the measurements are exact, but other than those things, Yamaguchi doesn't need much help. It's almost surprising, how competent he is as puts everything together, even as he jokingly offers Kei a sip of the cooking sake. He wonders when Yamaguchi learned to do things like this.

( _When he stopped coming to his house, probably._ )

While Yamaguchi is bent over a frying pan, Kei takes the cutting board Yamaguchi had laid out earlier and starts chopping scallions, maybe a little bit too slowly. When Yamaguchi sees Kei struggling, he openly laughs the way he always does, lowers the heat on the pan, and makes his way over to him. "You're holding the knife wrong, Tsukki," he says, reaching over. "You're supposed to hold it like this-"

And then Yamaguchi's skin is touching Kei's for the first time in ages, but before Kei can relish in it, before Kei can even really feel it, Yamaguchi's expression falls and he moves his fingers from Kei's hand to the blade of the knife, pulling it out of Kei's limp grip. He backs up from Kei, his eyes boring holes into him.

With his mouth turned into something that's almost a frown, Yamaguchi says, "I'll cut the scallions. Uh... can you move the chicken around so it doesn't burn?"

Wordlessly, Kei takes over the frying pan.

They finish cooking quickly; oyakodon wasn't as complicated as Kei thought, since Yamaguchi seemed to already know how to do everything already. They handle the dishes after, Yamaguchi washing while Kei dries, and Kei's sitting at the table waiting for Yamaguchi to finish putting plates away when he sees him scoop some of the food into bowls. "Will your mom be mad if you eat dinner now? Even though it's kind of early."

"It's fine," Kei says, and Yamaguchi comes over with two bowls in hand, lays them side by side, leaves and comes back with two pairs of chopsticks.

Yamaguchi sits at his right and says, "Thanks for the food." Kei repeats it, starts eating when Yamaguchi starts eating. Just slightly, Yamaguchi smiles at him.

The food is good, so good he wouldn't have believed Yamaguchi had made it if he hadn't seen him doing it. But... "It's a bit too salty," Kei says, just to make conversation. Yamaguchi's been acting strangely after the incident with the knife, even though it's true he's been trying to get the atmosphere back to normal, despite the fact that it hasn't quite been working.

Yamaguchi doesn't answer for a second, just eats, and then he says, "It's never tasted this good," but there's no lilt in his voice, not even a feigned smile. Instead he just speaks, voice hollow, eyes shining.

He's tired, probably. He did do most of the cooking, and that was after volleyball practice. That he's had the energy to spend time teaching himself things like this while also putting his all in volleyball, it's... kind of amazing, now that Kei thinks about it.

It really is amazing, Kei thinks as he chews on a piece of chicken. He doesn't know why he eats those red bean buns every day if he can cook like this, but it isn't really his business. Either way, Kei thinks, turning to look at him, Yamaguchi is-

Kei swallows. Yamaguchi is eating, chewing each bite slowly, and as he's eating, there are tears rolling quietly down his cheeks. The only sound Kei can hear is Yamaguchi chewing, but why is he-

Why is he crying?

"Yamaguchi, are you okay?" Kei asks, and it's a ridiculous question because Yamaguchi clearly isn't, but Kei doesn't know what else to say. It's funny, because he made that big deal about changing, about learning to support people, but now that Yamaguchi is here, staring him in the  _face_ , he can't even-

Yamaguchi puts down his chopsticks and wipes his cheeks with his forearm. He won't look at Kei, just stares down at his bowl and the table and Kei thinks to himself that the food is definitely too salty now, but that's the least helpful thought he could have in this situation and- "You should leave, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, voice low, and he sniffs.

"What?" Kei says, because he can't say anything else.

Yamaguchi still won't look at him. "You should- You should  _leave_ , Tsukki, you- you have to, I-"

Something in Kei almost shatters. There's something fierce pulling at him, willing him to stand up, to pick up his bag and just  _go_ , because what the hell has he been trying to do anyway? Why did he think for a second he could ever do something like this, why did he think that  _trying hard_  could change the very core of who he is? Yamaguchi is crying in front of him now, telling him to leave, and Kei was foolish enough to think that he was helping him, that Yamaguchi was going to be okay. All Kei knows how to do is  _pretend_  and Yamaguchi wouldn't even  _touch_  him and how could Kei ever be that stupid, but-

But Yamaguchi never gave up on him, and Yamaguchi would never leave if he thought something was wrong with Kei, and-

_"I think, no matter what happens to Yamaguchi-kun, if you're there for him, if he knows you care about him... I think he'll be fine."  
_

_"Even if you're harsh, I won't be... hurt, or take it too seriously, you know? Because... you're my best friend, right?"_

And sometimes, when Yamaguchi is with Kei, he laughs.

Kei looks straight at Yamaguchi the way he refuses to look at him, sees his red eyes, his wet cheeks, his runny nose, and says, "I'm not leaving."

"You have to, we can't- spend time like this anymore, it's- it's not  _right_." With his forearm, Yamaguchi rubs his cheeks. "I always- always  _knew_ , but I didn't want to stop, I- I  _couldn't_. I tried, but I  _couldn't_. Yachi, she said I was killing myself, but I didn't even  _care_ , it was- it was  _you_ , Tsukki, I can't... take advantage of you like that, I-"

Yamaguchi is... hysterical now, and Kei doesn't know what he's babbling about, but it doesn't matter. What matters is calming Yamaguchi down, is making him smile again. The last time Kei saw Yamaguchi cry, he... Kei reaches over and gingerly puts his hand on Yamaguchi's shoulder, and he doesn't move away. "Yamaguchi, what are you... what are you talking about?" he asks. Slowly, he moves his hand up and down, trying to emulate the way his mother used to comfort Akiteru when he cried.

Yamaguchi shifts, both his elbows on the table, his head buried into his arms. "I'm in love with you, Tsukki. I think I've been in love with you for a long time, but I didn't- I didn't  _realize_  before, and- I saw you with Kuroo, at that training camp in Tokyo. It's not- it's not  _fair_ , because you're my best friend and that's so  _much_ , Tsukki, but when we're together I... I want it to be more. I pretend it's more. And I can't do that, to you or to Kuroo, but I can't- I can't  _help_  it, so I have to-  _you_  have to-"

Kei looks at Yamaguchi, looks at him sobbing on his kitchen table next to a half-eaten bowl of oyakodon, and realizes the name of the feeling he gets when they're alone.

And there's- there's a  _reason_  he's avoided giving it a name until now, a reason he immediately wrote off what Kuroo said to him two weeks ago to Kuroo trying to make himself feel better about lying to him. He's never done this before, and Yamaguchi is  _fragile_. And Yamaguchi now is a thousand times more fragile than he was when they were kids. Kei knows he's hurt him before, knows that as much as he laughs or says it doesn't matter it  _does_. He knows it's completely within his power to leave Yamaguchi shattered, and even if Kei would rather die than see that happen, he's  _never_  been good with things that are fragile.

But if he buries this feeling, if he pretends it's nothing, Yamaguchi will leave.

If he buries this feeling, Yamaguchi will break, and Kei won't be there to help pick up the pieces.

Kei moves his chair so it's right next to Yamaguchi's and leans against him, draping an arm around his neck in an attempt at a half-embrace. "Kuroo broke up with me," he says, because he doesn't know where to start. Yamaguchi doesn't move, just keeps his face buried in his arms. "He was in love with someone else, and he said... he said I was, too." Just slightly, Kei feels Yamaguchi shift. "I thought he was wrong. I thought I couldn't love anyone that way, but... I think you've always been... different, Yamaguchi. Since we were kids."

For a minute, the only sound in the room is Yamaguchi's occasional sniffing, and Kei is scared he used the wrong words, that Yamaguchi doesn't understand the gravity of what he's saying. He's never been good at communicating like this, even if Yamaguchi usually understands him somehow, usually understands that when he's cruel he doesn't mean it, that when he doesn't return a compliment Yamaguchi sends his way, it doesn't mean he doesn't think that about him. He prays that Yamaguchi understands him now, but when he speaks again, Kei realizes he doesn't.

"You don't have to... lie. I don't want you to," Yamaguchi almost whispers. "I'm not even- I can't even come close to what you deserve. When we were at training camp, when you were acting weird, I had no idea what to do. I asked  _Hinata_  for advice. Kuroo, he- helped you. I  _know_  he did. You were so  _good_  after that, did you know? You've always been good, but it's like you were shining, and-" Yamaguchi swallows. "You deserve someone like that. Someone who can do that for you."

It's completely ridiculous, what Yamaguchi is saying, but Kei doesn't know how to convey it, how to convey how  _much_  Yamaguchi's done for him, how much he does for him every day. How he wouldn't have gone and gotten the help he needed if Yamaguchi hadn't yelled at him the courtyard, how it doesn't matter if Yamaguchi can't singlehandedly fix all his problems. He doesn't  _need_  Yamaguchi to fix his problems. The only thing he needs is for Yamaguchi to be his house every morning, to see him off when he goes home, to just be  _next_ to him. The quiet bursting in Kei's chest when Yamaguchi is there, that echoing emptiness when he isn't... Kei doesn't know how to make Yamaguchi understand it.

"I didn't fall in love with Kuroo after he taught me how to block," Kei finally settles on saying, tightening his grip on Yamaguchi and hoping that Yamaguchi understands him from the hand on his shoulder. "I... didn't fall in love with Kuroo." Kei swallows. "I fell in love with you, because you've always been... there, when I needed you. Even when I thought I didn't need anyone. Even when I acted like I didn't need anyone. You- You were there."

Yamaguchi looks up at him then, his eyes still red and his cheeks blotchy and wet. "I hurt you so  _much_. You did  _everything_  for me, and I... I let you, even though I..."

It's so funny, what Yamaguchi is saying to him. It's so... strange. He wonders how Yamaguchi can take his own flaws to a microscope but not even think of the things Kei's done wrong, to not fault Kei for them for a second. Yamaguchi is so  _good_ , too good for him, but Yamaguchi is in  _love_  with him, and Kei doesn't care about "deserve" anymore. "I can say the exact same thing, you know," Kei points out. He swallows. "It doesn't matter. I'm in love with you. I have been, for a long time. So let me... let stay with you." Just for now.

Yamaguchi doesn't speak again for a minute, just looks at him, and Kei is scared, scared that Yamaguchi will argue with him again, scared that Yamaguchi still doesn't understand him, that he'll never understand. But then, voice raw and low, he asks, "Tsukki, can I... can I kiss you?"

Kei lets him.

* * *

A couple of days later, Kei is sitting on his bed, about to go to sleep after Yamaguchi went home, when he picks up his phone and notices he missed a call from Kuroo.

Ah, Kei almost... forgot about that. His talk with Kuroo is long overdue, especially after the cold way he bade him farewell in Tokyo while Kuroo apologized ceaselessly. What Kuroo did wasn't good, exactly, and they both got lucky that he didn't fall in love with Kuroo while he was still lovesick over his best friend, but Kei was too harsh judging him the day they broke up. Especially since Kei knows just how hard it is to be lovesick over your best friend. 

With his thumb, Kei clicks on Kuroo's name and puts his phone to his ear. After a couple of rings, Kuroo picks up.

"Eh, Tsukki? Are you still mad at me? I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Kei says. "You were right. I'm not in love with you, and... I'm in love with Yamaguchi." When he finishes speaking, Kei hears Kuroo inhale, and he wonders if he was too blunt. But he doesn't think that his confession would be something Kuroo would be sour over, since he pointed it out first, and Kuroo's never minded his bluntness.

"That's... hard," Kuroo says, speaking slowly. "But... while it's true I don't know Yamaguchi that well, from what I saw of him at the practice match and what you say about him, I think he might-"

"We're together now," Kei clarifies, and he thinks to himself that it's nice, somehow, that the concern he heard in Kuroo's voice was for him. It's things like that, maybe, that made it so easy for Kei to mistake this for love. Though perhaps it wasn't that much of a mistake. Even though it wasn't the kind of love he thought it was, it was still love. Kuroo said something like that when they broke up. But it's... an extremely saccharine thought.

"Oh," Kuroo says, confusion in his tone. "Oh!" He chuckles to himself. "I'm happy for you, you know. Really."

His voice is genuine, that bittersweet tone Kei used to hear after he spoke about Yamaguchi completely gone. That really was guilt, wasn't it? "Thank you," Kei says, and for a second, neither of them speak. "How are you, and... Kenma?" His voice is too hesitant; he'd been trying to make conversation, but he thinks he went too far too quickly. Even if he is with Yamaguchi now, he doesn't think he'll ever be in a position where he can give Kuroo relationship advice. Though he had always been satisfied with just an ear.

"Ha, don't worry about me, Tsukki. I've gotten used to it." Kuroo's words are concise and thin, in a way that makes Kei certain that he doesn't want to speak about it. Kei's also certain that if he caught him at a later hour, Kuroo would probably wax on about Kenma the way he always does. "Anyway, I'm sorry if I messed things up with you and Yamaguchi for a while. Tell Yamaguchi that, too, will you? Though I'm not sure he wants to hear from me." 

"You don't need to apologize for that. If it weren't for you, I don't think me and Yamaguchi would have ended up the way we are," Kei says. It's true; Kuroo set off some kind of long, painful chain reaction, and even if it was terrible at times, it ended with Kei finding out Yamaguchi was in love with him. That might be worth all the pain in the world.

"I'm sure it would have been fine. But thanks for trying to make me feel better." There's a grin in Kuroo's voice, like he thinks Kei's being cute, and Kei wants to roll his eyes.

"I don't waste time flattering people. Especially not you." He can hear Kuroo about to retort, but he cuts him off. "It's true. I don't wish we were still together, but while we were together, even if we weren't really dating, I was happy. There were things you made me think about myself that... made what I have now with Yamaguchi possible. So... thank you." It's embarrassing to admit, but he owes it to Kuroo, even if he did lie to him. 

"Aw, you're still so cute," Kuroo says, the same teasing lilt Kei's gotten used to hearing in his voice, and Kei realizes that Kuroo called him cute so much, and he didn't like him that way, then he meant "cute" the way people do when they describe small children and animals. That's... Kei's not sure what he thought it meant before.

"I'm not," Kei says.

Kuroo laughs. "I think Yamaguchi would agree with me," Kuroo singsongs, and Kei narrows his eyes.

"You barely even know Yamaguchi."

"I know he _likes_  you," Kuroo sings again, so reminiscent of a child on the playground that Kei can't help but sigh. 

For a long while, the both of them are silent, and Kei tries to think of something else to say.

Right as Kei wonders if he should end the conversation, Kuroo starts to speak again. "Tsukki..." He says, and his tone is suddenly just a little bit nervous. "I don't want to never speak to you again, after this. Even if I was never in love with you, I do love you, Tsukki. I told you that before. You're... important to me. So it is fine, if we still text? And call?"

Kuroo's voice is vulnerable and low, just like that time at the park, but Kei doesn't feel the same rage fill him that came before. He's glad, somehow, that Kuroo's comfortable acting like this around him.

"The next time you text me," Kei says, "I'll answer."

* * *

It's a few weeks later, and Yamaguchi is laying across Kei's lap as they watch a documentary on stingrays. Or, as Kei watches a documentary on stingrays. Yamaguchi's been on his phone for a while now.

Suddenly, Yamaguchi laughs, just lightly. When he sees Kei look at him, he grins, leaning back on the couch's armrest. "Shimizu's taken Yachi out almost every day after school for all of last week and she still can't figure out if they're dating or being friends," he says.

"We were like that for a while," Kei points out. Yamaguchi laughs, then sits up to kiss him on his cheek and leans back again. Kei scowls, but he doesn't really mean it. Yamaguchi's always been an affectionate person; sometime in their friendship, he'd gotten in the habit of hugging him and falling asleep on his shoulder, and he's never really disliked it. The only difference is that now, Yamaguchi kisses him sometimes, and... Kei likes that to an embarrassing degree.

"And we started dating, right?" Yamaguchi asks, and the way he smiles at Kei makes him not want to argue with Yamaguchi anymore, even though he could make a point about the incredible amount of difficulties they went through to start dating and how close they'd gotten to not dating at all. That'd be depressing, anyway. "Yachi should just tell her she likes her. I'm sure she likes her back."

"Don't get too involved with other people's lives, Yamaguchi," Kei scolds him, lightly tapping a knuckle against his forehead. He's afraid he might treat this like one of his dramas. "Anyway, is Yachi even comfortable with how much you tell me about her love life?"

"You're my best friend," Yamaguchi says, still smiling at him. "Of course I tell you everything. You won't tell anyone, anyway."

Kei scowls again, but he pats Yamaguchi on the head. Yamaguchi keeps grinning at him. "I just think it's strange that I know everything about her love life and she doesn't even know we're dating," Kei says, and he's about to turn his attention back to the television but he catches sight of Yamaguchi biting his lip and knows exactly what it means. He narrows his eyes. "Yamaguchi..."

"Sorry, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says, and it's less lively than when he usually says it, "but she knew I was in love with you a long time ago, so I had to tell her. She won't tell anyone, though! She's not that kind of person."

She must have known, when Kei went up to her then. That makes sense. He... probably owes her something, too. "You mean like you. But... it's fine. I trust Yachi," he says, and then before thinking, he accidentally says, "It'll be inconvenient later, though." 

A wrinkle forms between Yamaguchi's eyebrows as he asks, "What do you mean?" Kei leans over to press his lips on his forehead. "Eh, Tsukki, what do you mean?"

Kei bites the inside of his mouth; Yamaguchi realized he was avoiding his question. When they started dating, they had a conversation about being honest with each other, and Kei specifically told Yamaguchi to always tell him when something was upsetting him because nothing Yamaguchi thought or got hurt by would be enough to make Kei leave. Yamaguchi's been good with that, and it's hypocritical to hide this, but he... doesn't want to talk about this. Still, if Yamaguchi knows he's hiding something... holding it back might blow it up into something bigger than it already is. "When we break up," he says, "you'll have to tell her. Since you'll be friends for a long time, won't you?"

He tries to speak nonchalantly, but Yamaguchi catches on immediately. "What are you talking about?" he asks, sitting up, and his voice is shaking, more with anger than sadness. Just slightly, Kei sees his eyes start to sparkle. "You're going to... break up with me? You said... You said-"

Kei runs his fingers through Yamaguchi's hair. "I'm not going to break up with you, so don't cry. But when you find someone who's better for you than me, I don't want to... hold you back, so..."

Kei feels his heart get a little bit harder. There's a reason he didn't want to talk about this before, but he doesn't want to lie to him about things anymore. They spent a lot of time lying, and it's true that right now they love each other, so as long as they have right now, it's fine. This is more than Kei ever expected, so... Kei looks away from Yamaguchi.

"I hurt you, sometimes, and it's not... easy for me, to do a lot of things. When you find someone who's different and you like them better, I won't blame you, for leaving. If you're happy, I-"

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi yells, grabbing Kei by the shoulders, and Kei's looks straight at him. "Tsukki, what are you talking about?" There are tears rolling down his cheeks, and Kei feels it tear at his heart that he made him cry. "I'm not going to- I can't believe you think that! Every time I told you I love you, did you think I was lying? It was- It was so hard for me to tell you, and you didn't even  _believe_  me?"

Kei doesn't know what to do. He never knows what to do when Yamaguchi cries, and he knew Yamaguchi would be upset if he brought this up, but he never thought that Yamaguchi would be shaking with this kind of rage. He never thought that it would offend Yamaguchi like this, that it would  _hurt_  him like this. It  _shouldn't_ , because everything Kei is saying is about  _him_ , but... "I do believe you, but when we get older, that might change, and I don't want you to force you to stay with someone who-"

"I  _love_  you, Tsukki! I'm not going to find someone better than you because I won't love them, because the only person I love is  _you_! You know, when I thought- when I thought you didn't care about me anymore, when I thought you'd be better off without me, you- you yelled at me, how much I mattered to you! Even though I was avoiding you! Even though I hurt you so much! And you think  _I'm_  going to find someone better than  _you_?"

Yamaguchi is so  _hurt_. The last time Kei made him cry he promised he'd never make him cry again, and he knew it was unrealistic, but why is it  _this_? He's even hurting him now, and... doesn't that just drive in his point even further? It's so  _stupid_ , because he works so hard to make sure Yamaguchi knows how good he is, does everything to let Yamaguchi know how important he is to him, but he still thinks he's not good enough for  _him_? "Shut up. Don't say that. Don't you know how  _good_  you are?"

"Don't  _you_?" Yamaguchi shoots back, snot running down his nose, and for the first time, Kei understands.

Kei pulls Yamaguchi flush against his chest, wraps his arms around him. Yamaguchi's arms fall limp at his sides. "I'm sorry, Yamaguchi. I... I believe you. I believe you'll stay. So don't cry." He presses his lips on the top of his head.

For a long time, neither of them talk. Yamaguchi is still breathing slowly, and Kei is rubbing his back. Yamaguchi isn't leaving, so Kei doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Yamaguchi finally says after a couple of minutes of silence. "It's- You know, Tsukki, neither of us are... perfect. Even if I think you're really close. But I'm still going to love you, even if you hurt me sometimes, because you don't... mean it, right? And I know I lie too much, but... it'll be okay, you know? As long as we talk and we love each other. Even if we're not perfect, I think we can get there, together, so... don't say we're going to break up anymore. Stop being so sure it's going to happen, okay?"

And Kei always knew that if he brought this up to Yamaguchi, he'd insist it wasn't true, say he'd love him forever, because that's the kind of nice he is, but... the way he's speaking now, how angry he made him before, he really hurt him. And it's bad, maybe, that Kei needs him to do so much to trust his words but... somehow, Yamaguchi always knows what he needs. "Okay," Kei says, and he isn't lying.

Yamaguchi moves, so he's sitting by Kei's side, leaning on his shoulder, hugging his arm. "I thought it was kind of cool, how we didn't tell anyone. Like we were Romeo and Juliet. But if that's the reason, I don't really want to keep it a secret anymore."

"You can tell them, if you want," Kei says, because he hurt Yamaguchi's feelings and he wants to make up for it, somehow. "They'll be annoying, but they're always annoying."

"Really?" he asks, eyes wide, and Kei can see stars. "Can I tell your mom?"

Kei bites his lip. His mom likes Yamaguchi so much she'll probably be happy, but she'll probably annoy him, too. He'll get used to it. "Fine."

"Can I tell my mom?"

"I don't really care if you tell your mom, Yamaguchi."

* * *

It's a season later, and Kei is watching Yamaguchi try not to drip takoyaki sauce on his yukata as they sit next to each other on a hill overlooking the fireworks festival. They'd been down there earlier, Kei watching Yamaguchi try and fail to scoop goldfish, buying candy apples and takoyaki. Kei finished his apple a long time ago, since Yamaguchi dropped his and he couldn't help himself from offering some to him after seeing that sad look on his face. 

They've come to this festival before. A lot of times before. The first time was years ago, back when Kei and Yamaguchi had just become friends. Back when Kei found the first person who laughed when he was mean, who let him talk as much as he wanted about the things he liked, who let him not talk when he didn't want to. It was funny, because he thought the way Yamaguchi latched on to him was annoying at first, but in just a couple of weeks, Kei couldn't even remember what his life was like before Yamaguchi.

It was during summer vacation, the days when Yamaguchi finally decided he didn't need an excuse for why he was Kei's house anymore, when Yamaguchi ran into his living room and laid out a flier he'd gotten from the convenience store a couple of blocks down, filling his house with endless chatter about how cool the festival was going to be, how he thought the fireworks were going to be really big, and the food was going to be really good. Kei never liked festivals or fireworks, but Yamaguchi was a force of nature then, and somehow he got swept up in it before he even realized.

Yamaguchi was so  _excited_  when they went, the kind of excited only Yamaguchi could be. Akiteru thought it was cute, but it was something else for Kei. He wasn't impressed by much back then, except for maybe those animals he saw on the nature channel, but Yamaguchi's happiness was palpable, somehow. He could feel it pressing on him, almost permeating through his skin and pouring into him.

He knows now it's because Yamaguchi had never seen any of those things before, except on television, because he didn't have friends to go with and his mother was always working, but even that can't negate how Kei felt then, how he felt when he saw Yamaguchi's face while he looked up at the sky. It's something Kei can envision even now: Yamaguchi's eyes bigger than Kei ever thought were possible, Yamaguchi's mouth hanging open, the colors dancing on the freckles on his face. There was  _something_  then, something in the sheer awe in his expression and the happiness emanating from him that made Kei finally feel the magic you were supposed to feel at things like that. The magic he'd never felt before. 

But that was years ago, Kei thinks. Things are... different, now.

Kei looks at the boy sitting next to him, nudging him and urging him to look at the sky, and smiles.

They're better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _you've changed me._ "
> 
> \- bleachers, i'm ready to move on/dream of mickey mantle reprise


	5. tetsurou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a second, Kuroo thought he imagined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you actively dislike kuroken, you're probably better off skipping this one.)
> 
> \---
> 
> "oh, can't you see? i am delusional with love, i am delusional with love..." - the front bottoms, _cough it out ___

"Kuroo." 

It's funny, how well Tetsurou can remember it, his last name spoken in such a small voice that for a second he thought he imagined it.

Actually, in the moment, he was certain he imagined it. Considering the way Kenma had been acting, the entire time they met, it would have been strange, for him to speak when Tetsurou hadn't spoken first. Not to mention that no one ever called him Kuroo; his mom and all the people around the neighborhood called him Tetsu, when they weren't yelling at him for accidentally knocking his volleyball into their yards.

Before he heard it, his name in such a soft tone, he'd been getting pessimistic, though maybe it was partially his own fault. He'd gotten himself excited to meet Kenma just because his mother acted like he should have been, said something about him finally having someone to play volleyball with that he didn't really understand, since his parents played with him when he asked. It was only seeing him, a real kid around his age, when he got it, when he understood just how cool it would be to have someone who he could always play with, who would never shoo him out or tell him to be quiet when they were busy. 

But just like he couldn't understand his parents sometimes, he couldn't understand Kenma either, the longer he was around him. He was glued to his television; when Tetsurou came into the room and introduced himself, Kenma didn't bat an eyelash, and he didn't move when he asked if he wanted to go out and play volleyball either. Tetsurou had watched his fair share of TV volleyball matches, but he couldn't understand how someone could sit so still.

Eventually he'd settled on planting himself at Kenma's side, staring up at the television and trying to figure out what Kenma saw that he didn't, but he didn't think it was helping, and he didn't think it was doing anything to make Kenma warm up to him.

( _"What are you playing?"_

_"Selda."_

_"What's that?"_

_"...It's a game."_

_"Why are there hearts on the top of the screen?"_

_"That's my health."_

_"What's that thing you're beating up?"_

_"Monster."_

_"Whoa, you have a horse?"_

_"Yeah."_ )

It was discouraging, but eventually it was more than that. Overwhelming, too much to wrap his mind around, everything in Kenma's room, everything about Kenma, and Tetsurou was starting to feel the way he did when he went to play in the computer room when his mom was there and her answers to his questions started getting shorter and shorter until she eventually told him that maybe he should go spend time with his dad.

Mm, that feeling, but... worse, somehow. Like going on a rocketship and being excited about going to space, but then landing on Mars and being alone with aliens who didn't want you there. Isolating, but... hated, too. Not that Tetsurou even knew those words at that age.

In retrospect, Kenma must have realized, how Tetsurou was starting to feel. Kenma's always been far more perceptive than he has any business being, and even if it was their first time meeting each other, Tetsurou wouldn't expect any less of Kenma, being able to read him within less than an hour of being around him. And that he'd try to fix it, even if he didn't know Tetsurou at all. Kenma's always been a nicer person than people pick up on.

Thinking back on it... That small, whispered, "Kuroo," the way Kenma was too shy to look at him when he asked if he wanted to try...

Maybe it's not so strange Tetsurou remembers that moment so well after all.

* * *

Time passed, and Tetsurou stopped doubting himself. He'd never been the type, and even as their friendship went from Kenma tenatively offering to play outside with him and Tetsurou telling him not to force it to Tetsurou throwing open Kenma's door and demanding he come outside and Kenma arguing that he should just let him play video games all day, Tetsurou reveled in it. It was only Kenma feeling comfortable enough to be himself, and even if "himself" was a grouchy, lazy, recluse, he liked having him around anyway. Plus, even then, Tetsurou knew he was more than that.

Kind. That's what Kenma was. He never would have said that to him - he isn't sure he'd say that even now - but it's something he knows, he's always known, since they were kids. Even if he didn't act like it, even if Tetsurou acted like not going outside with him to play a sport he didn't like was doing something  _wrong_ , he knew it wasn't. That Kenma spent so much time doing something for Tetsurou that he didn't even enjoy; Tetsurou knew that kind of kindness was rare.

He was pushing him. He knew that. But sometime when they were very young, Kenma's mother had talked to him about how Kenma had looked so much healthier since Tetsurou started playing outside with him, how the should keep encouraging him. That, and how  _tiny_  he looked when he first saw him, how his own mother told him before they met that Tetsurou should be nice to Kenma because he's younger, they helped Tetsurou realize that Kenma needed...  _something_ , and he had to try to provide it. And it was more than just exercise.

The spring break after Tetsurou's first year of junior high and Kenma's final year of elementary, when they just finished practicing receives in the park and Tetsurou told Kenma, "When break ends and school starts, join the volleyball club," he knew he was pushing Kenma to a ridiculous degree. But he also knew he  _needed_  it.

Kenma didn't have friends then, other than him. Tetsurou had known that for ages, and even if it was nice to have someone like Kenma all to himself, he knew Kenma deserved a world bigger than just him, and he knew the world deserved Kenma. But even though Tetsurou encouraged him to talk to the people around him, pointed out people in his class and called the kids who took Kenma aside and asked him meaningless questions about yesterday's assignment Kenma's friends, Tetsurou knew that Kenma was alone whenever he left the room. Even though he also knew that if those classmates really knew Kenma, they would have wanted to be his friends.

It was something to do with shyness and anxiety that Kenma hated talking to Tetsurou about, and Tetsurou didn't mind it, that they didn't talk about it in plain words. But he knew that the situation Kenma was in had to change, that he deserved better than that, anxiety and shyness notwithstanding.

Tetsurou remembers how he'd been nervous, even if he'd always been good at hiding emotions like that, watching the way Kenma turned his head to glance at him, his expression totally absent, save the way he bit his lip. How Tetsurou had watched Kenma's mouth open and braced himself, praying for Kenma not to disagree because he wasn't sure what he'd do if he did. He knew he couldn't force Kenma to be a different type of person, and that a commitment like what he was asking was a huge one, but-

But when Kenma spoke, he only asked, "You'll be there?"

It wasn't a no. Tetsurou felt everything inside of him stall, felt himself on the edge of tenative excitement, shrugged and said, "Of course." He tracked Kenma's eyes as he looked at the ground and then back at him, felt something in his chest twist itself tightly-

And then, in a voice flat and nonchalant, Kenma said, "Okay."

It was too good, too easy, too much of everything Tetsurou wanted, and for a second, he thought he imagined it.

But on the first day of practice, Tetsurou watched Kenma walk through the gymnasium doors.

* * *

 

Progress isn't linear. Tetsurou learned that in his first year of high school.

On a Sunday that year, sometime in the fall, he dragged Kenma out to their usual park, not commenting on just how easy it was to get him to come out, how much easier it was than last year. Tetsurou knew why. He played it like he did normally, encouraging Kenma to work harder, complimenting the moves he did well and giving him advice where he could, but carelessly, after wiping his brow and taking a swig of water, he mentioned how weak Kenma's serve had gotten.

He watched Kenma freeze, visibly, as he opened his mouth to respond, maybe make some sort of excuse, and then closed it again, thinking better of it. He looked at his eyes, how they were just that much bigger, and felt the way Kenma couldn't look him in his face. It took everything in Tetsurou to hide a grimace.

Their relationship had changed since junior high, more than it had in the transition from elementary, and it was because of Tetsurou. Their relationship was strained already, with volleyball club taking up almost all of Tetsurou's time and stamina, but the final push that messed everything up - it was no one but Tetsurou's fault. 

It had happened on a Saturday afternoon in Kenma's bedroom, Tetsurou laying on Kenma's bed and staring on the ceiling and Kenma sitting on the floor by his television. They were talking but they also weren't, and thinking back on it, by the way Tetsurou was acting, Kenma must have known something was wrong from the second Tetsurou walked into the room.

Still, he waited to comment on it. Maybe he was distracted by whatever he'd been playing at the time - Tetsurou didn't care enough to find out what it was - or maybe he thought Tetsurou would end up talking about it even if he didn't say anything. Whichever one it was, it was only about thirty minutes into a choppy, meaningless conversation that Kenma took it upon himself to ask if something was wrong.

Kenma was bad at conversations like those, Tetsurou knew by then, and that he still bothered to initiate it, just to make sure Tetsurou would be okay - Tetsurou should have been thankful. But he was tired and irritated and bitter and in retrospect, he shouldn't have even gone over to Kenma's, but they were rarely seeing each other anyway- but that didn't  _matter_  because he ruined it-

_"Why even ask? You wouldn't understand it, anyway. Some of us have bigger problems than not being able to get past level 20."_

It wasn't like Tetsurou had never fought with Kenma before, and it wasn't like that was the first time Tetsurou snapped at him, but he'd never heard so much vitriol in his own voice. He'd never discouraged Kenma from trying before, rejected him so cleanly for no reason. Even if the upperclassmen at volleyball club were treating him the way they were, even if they were leaving him emotionally and physically exhausted, it wasn't anywhere near an excuse to take it out on  _Kenma_. Kind, anxious, ultra-perceptive Kenma.

He'd apologized, told Kenma he didn't mean it, about the situation at volleyball club, but the damage was done. Tetsurou could see it, in the way Kenma hesitated to speak when he had the slightest hint that Tetsurou was in an off mood. The way Kenma became so sensitive to how Tetsurou was acting that he'd misread a passing comment about Kenma's weak serve as a rebuke, as some passive-aggressive jab at how Kenma quit volleyball.

Not that he bothered to tell him about it, anyway.

Tetsurou understood why. In the beginning, Kenma must have been ashamed somehow, known that Tetsurou would be disappointed when he found out - which he was, truly. The sinking in his chest he felt when he realized was proof enough - but after Tetsurou snapped at him, it must have turned into fear that - Tetsurou isn't sure what. Maybe Kenma was afraid he'd lecture him with the same kind of vitriol he used after he tried to ask if he was okay, or he was afraid he'd be so irritated he wouldn't want to spend time with him anymore. 

Tetsurou wasn't sure how to feel about the prospect of making Kenma think like that, but he didn't want to cause Kenma any more anxiety, and the fact that he  _was_  disappointed about Kenma quitting and that he was still dealing with the upperclassmen at volleyball club on a daily basis - he wasn't sure that he wouldn't end up accidentally lashing out. So he just tried to avoid the topic, tried to act like things were still the same.

Honestly, even if he was disappointed, Tetsurou should have expected it, to some extent. He knew Kenma hadn't really connected with their teammates in the junior high volleyball club, that he thought of the people he introduced him to as "Tetsurou's friends" rather than  _their_  friends, that he spent most of the free time at practice following Tetsurou around or sitting in a corner with his DS. Spending the afternoon at volleyball practice hadn't changed Kenma's situation as much as Tetsurou had hoped, even if he  _knew_  that it helped Kenma at least a little, that he'd gotten better at talking to people he didn't know that well.

Still, he wasn't going to blame Kenma for being the way that he was. He wouldn't get mad at him for it, not genuinely. He wished Kenma knew that.

"I'm sorry-" Kenma had said then, his gaze turned downward, prepared for some sort of scolding. Tetsurou remembers capturing all of his complicated feelings, twisting them together so tightly they couldn't move, and then smiling at Kenma in the gentlest way he could.

"Next year," he said, clutching his water bottle between his fingers, "when we're in volleyball club together again, I'll make sure you get that serve back to where it used to be."

Kenma relaxing, turning his gaze back to to him, and nodding - Tetsurou remembers thinking how amazing it was, that a sight as simple as that could mean so much to him.

* * *

Tetsurou can pinpoint the exact moment he realized he might be in love with Kenma.

There are people Tetsurou talks to about love, late at night when he's too tired to be guarded, isn't sure he needs to be with those people anyway-

(Bokuto, who's smarter and better at advice than people give him credit for, and even Tsukishima, when Tetsurou gets sappy enough and Tsukishima tries to relate to him using Yamaguchi. He's awful at saying things that would genuinely make Tetsurou feel better, but it's funny enough that Tetsurou gets distracted from what was upsetting him anyway, even if it's only temporarily.)

-and they make it sound like a gradual process, like they just fell a little bit more in love with the person they're in love with every day they were next to them, all leading up to some soft, quiet realization, and maybe part of that was true for Tetsurou. Maybe he'd been slowly falling in love with Kenma as their friendship grew, maybe he'd been in love with him longer than he realized, but  _when_  he realized- that visceral feeling, how he almost moved without thinking, how  _different_  Kenma looked-

It was powerful, and it was terrifying. It's  _still_  terrifying. So terrifying he can still remember it like it was yesterday.

Winter vacation, his first year of high school - and of course it would happen then, make what was the most difficult year of their friendship the most difficult year of his life, but it was probably  _because_  it was then that it would happen, that it would affect him the way it did. Something about absence making the heart grow fonder, but a thought like that is so cheesy Tetsurou doesn't want to think it.

It was the day before the last day of vacation, and Tetsurou had just gotten back from training camp. It was one Tetsurou might have been tempted to skip, since he hated half the team and he knew he'd end up spending most of the time running errands anyway, but letting them get in the way of his love of volleyball would be letting them win. Plus, he couldn't abandon the rest of the first-years like that.

He did end up getting better at playing, no thanks to any of the upperclassmen, but he couldn't feel that good about it, with how little he was seeing Kenma. Their last conversation left a sour taste in his mouth, even with all the unease about Kenma's quitting volleyball and Tetsurou's unintentional cruelty left (mostly) firmly in the past. Christmas night in Kenma's bedroom after their families ate dinner together, Tetsurou telling Kenma he'd be gone, joking about how he was probably relieved he wouldn't be around to stop him from playing video games all vacation, and Kenma quietly, bluntly saying, "Yeah."

Maybe Tetsurou was imagining it, reading disappointment where there wasn't any, but the thought that he might have let Kenma down was enough to twist his insides. Tetsurou was never insecure enough to think Kenma didn't like being with him, not after all the years they'd known each other, but it hit him then, that Kenma wanted him around and he never was. That he was probably the only person Kenma was talking to and they were barely talking.

But it didn't matter then. He was changing it. The first thing he did once he got back from training camp was take a shower and then head over to Kenma's house. He didn't even stop to dry his hair, to comb it - it was only Kenma, and he  _needed_  to see Kenma as quickly as he could, needed the guilt to stop eating him and the- loneliness, maybe? The feeling of missing Kenma, he needed it to go away.

Kenma's mother let him into the house, told him how nice it was to see him again, that Kenma hadn't come out of his room yet so he might still be asleep or playing video games. Even if he was asleep, Tetsurou didn't mind; he'd wait for him to wake up, watch television in his room or play games on his phone, maybe even wake him up if he slept too long, but then-

Then Tetsurou opened the door to Kenma's bedroom, and all those plans went out the window.

It was stupid, really. Kenma had fallen asleep leaning back against the side of his bed while playing something on his television, and Tetsurou's sure that if he'd seen him like that at any point before then in his life, he would have just woken Kenma up and told him to sleep in his bed, but  _something_ , something about how rarely Tetsurou had been seeing him lately, how much time he spent thinking about him, how long it had been since Tetsurou had the opportunity to really  _look_  at him -

It made everything different.

He was so small, Tetsurou realized as he approached him, leaning down in front of him. He could probably pick him up with one arm. And his eyelashes were so long; it was strange he never noticed that before. And there was something about the way the television light played upon Kenma's face, in the darkness of Kenma's room with the blinds drawn, it made it look...  _soft_ , almost. Funny, how Tetsurou never realized how soft Kenma was. He wondered what it would be like to touch his face, to feel it between his fingertips, to press his lips against his cheek-

And then Tetsurou backed up, accidentally slammed his back against the wall of Kenma's bedroom, and left.

* * *

That was two years ago. Two years ago that Tetsurou realized, did some things he wasn't proud of - avoided Kenma for a while. It wasn't hard, considering that they didn't have many opportunities to see each other around that time anyway, but that didn't help with the guilt. Eventually he forced himself to get used to it, and even if he was better at dealing with it by his second year, he remembers still needing to make excuses every now and then, just to keep his sanity.

(Honestly, he's not sure he did get better at dealing with it. Considering everything that's happened lately... he's probably still bad at it, in different ways.)

Maybe someone else might think it was a waste, or strange, that his and Kenma's relationship hadn't changed in two years, that Tetsurou took all that time to realize and did nothing with it, but the truth is, Tetsurou's glad nothing's changed. He knows things are better this way, and he's known it since that day in Kenma's room. No matter how much that realization affected Tetsurou, as long as he doesn't let it reach Kenma, he knows he'll be fine. That he'll still have something.

Something like confessing... It's childish, anyway. Something you consider for the person you occasionally share glances with, the person you fantasize a relationship with. Not for someone you've known your entire life. Especially not for Kenma.

If Kenma rejects him, if he's grossed out, even if Tetsurou knows they're too close for something like this to break their friendship, watching Kenma slowly draw away from him because he's disgusted by the way he feels, or even watching him just get stressed over it... Tetsurou knows it'll kill him. Getting farther away from Kenma, knowing it's because of the feelings that have become just as much a part of him as his limbs, that'll hurt, but knowing that his feelings have become a burden? He knows that'll hurt even more. The last thing he ever wants to be is a burden to Kenma.

And somehow that's not even worst-case scenario. If Kenma says yes, if they date for a while but have a falling out, totally disregarding whatever emotional toll that would have on Tetsurou, that might end their friendship completely. He might never be by Kenma's side again, and Kenma...  _needs_  him. Back during his first year of high school, Tetsurou was Kenma's only friend, the only thing that got Kenma out of the house and talking to people outside his family, but even now, even if Tetsurou knows Kenma's really friends with the Nekoma volleyball club, that he really cares about them and they really care about him...

When Tetsurou left their middle school volleyball club, Kenma quit. And Kenma's grown so much since then, Tetsurou  _knows_ , but if it's different, if Tetsurou himself becomes a hostile, anxiety-inducing presence, who's to say Kenma won't just quit on everything, quit on volleyball club, quit on the people he introduced him to? Even if Tetsurou left volleyball club - which he isn't even sure he could do, lose both volleyball and Kenma - who's to say he still wouldn't see Tetsurou in it anyway, with how much time they spent together playing it?

He can't let that happen. Not for something as stupid and useless as adolescent feelings. Kenma comes first. Kenma always comes first.

And maybe-

Maybe that's not the only reason. It's true he's afraid of the idea of Kenma without Tetsurou, but maybe even more than that...

Maybe he's afraid of the idea of Tetsurou without Kenma.

* * *

Kozume. Ko-zu-me.

Sometimes, at his most tired, at his most forlorn, Tetsurou rolls the name on his tongue, thinks about the sound of it.  _Kozume_. He tries not to say it too often, so he doesn't accidentally slip up and call Kenma by his first name, but he loves the thought of it. Wonders what "Tetsurou" would sound like in Kenma's voice, too. That's-- embarrassing. But it's also true.

When they were younger, when they met the first time, Kenma called him "Kuroo." Kenma, Tetsurou thinks, was the first person to ever call him Kuroo, and he thinks he was the first person to call Kenma "Kenma," too. It was strange - probably a way for Kenma to establish comfortable distance between them, when Tetsurou first came barrelling into his bedroom and his personal space - but Tetsurou liked it, back when they were younger. It was special, the way they were the only people who called each other that way. Then they got older, and it wasn't, anymore.

That's dumb, though, isn't it? Tetsurou doesn't care about being special to Kenma. Or, rather, he knows he is, that they know each other like the back of their hands, and it's... ridiculous to get caught up in that anyway. He just wants Kenma to be happy. That's what friends should want for each other. Nothing about being special, nothing about possessiveness. And yet...

And yet,  _"Shouyou._ "

Tetsurou shouldn't be thinking like this. Thinking like this is useless; it has you accept confessions from girls you've never seen before who eventually dump you because you couldn't find time for them between volleyball and Kenma, has you make out with your stupid friend from Fukurodani until he eventually ends up stopping and rejects you because he likes someone else (and you do too, Kuroo, you told me), has you proposition the tall, blonde first year in the third gym (and maybe almost ruin his life), and...

Yeah, Tetsurou's... made a lot of mistakes, since he realized his feelings, since he realized Kenma's feelings. He does regret them, hates the way he's thinking right now more than anything, but he spends so much time reining them in around Kenma that it's almost impossible to hold them in when he's alone. As long as he doesn't hurt Kenma, he's... fine. With this, whether this hurts him or not... Kenma's the only thing he'll hold this in for. Kenma's the only thing that matters.

And as true as that is, as much as Tetsurou will never go against that... It's probably the reason these feelings are causing him so much trouble.

The only reason "Shouyou" affects him so much, Tetsurou thinks, is because he's... unquestionably good for Kenma. Their entire relationship is built on everything Tetsurou's ever wanted for Kenma, everything he's always wanted him to be able to do. The way they spoke so easily the first time, the way they exchanged numbers and talk so constantly despite their distance... Kenma made that relationship entirely by himself. Tetsurou should be proud of him. No, Tetsurou  _is_  proud of him. Doing something as brave and brash as immediately calling him by his first name - Kenma was too nervous to call Tetsurou by his first name when they were children, when it was  _normal_... Kenma is different now. Kenma is brave, and smiles when he talks to people he likes, and he's  _better_.

And because of Shouyou, he even likes volleyball now.

(In years, Tetsurou couldn't even-)

He remembers how it felt, watching it all fall together. Running into them together the first time and thinking Kenma's strange preoccupation was funny, and then playing the game against Karasuno and watching how intense Kenma became when Hinata was in the room. How that became constant texting, cute stories about something "Shouyou" texted him about. And then attending training camp and watching Kenma glance anxiously around a gym, watching him smile the way he rarely does when he sees Hinata, and realizing, doubtlessly now, that the person he's in love with is in love with someone else.

Tetsurou moved over, then, teased Kenma about his crush, about his face whenever Hinata entered the room, about how he acted when they played against him, and listened to Kenma's denials but didn't let himself get desperate enough to believe them. Even if it hurt, Tetsurou knew it was something he needed to let happen. Kenma liked Hinata more than he'd ever seen him like anyone, and he was sure Hinata liked Kenma, too. He wasn't sure who wouldn't, after getting to know him.

Kenma deserved to date someone he liked who liked him back, and Tetsurou needed to learn to get over a doomed three-year old crush. He knew that more than anything.

And somewhere around moving over and moving on, Tetsurou started spending time in the third gym with Tsukishima, who was funny, cute, and let Tetsurou kiss him when he asked.

* * *

Tetsurou taps his fingers on the subway pole, grins down at Kenma sitting in front of him, and then looks up to read an ad when he doesn't react. Kenma's been quiet this afternoon, but Tetsurou knows Kenma too well to mind it. There are times when Kenma feels like speaking and times when Kenma doesn't; Tetsurou has no reason to take that to heart.

Kenma's playing a new game on his PFP, something Kenma's been so preoccupied with playing he hasn't found the time to tell Tetsurou about it. Tetsurou's fine with that; his conversations about video games with Kenma are usually just to humor him anyway. Tetsurou's not that good at keeping all the titles and the game mechanics and the stories in his head, and he wouldn't have anything to do with that information even if he could retain it. As long as he remembers the games Kenma lets him play and the ones they play together, he's sure he's fine.

Tetsurou's reading an ad about hemorrhoid medication, wondering what the point is of making the print on an ad so small that no one can make it out, when he hears Kenma's voice from underneath him. It's so quiet that for a moment, Tetsurou thought Kenma was talking to himself.

"I was texting Shouyou," Kenma says, and Tetsurou sighs internally but grins externally, prepares to tease him somehow, wonders for a second why Kenma would say something that Tetsurou could so easily nudge him about, but before he can say anything, Kenma continues, "and he told me Tsukishima started dating their pinch server."

Oh.

After everything... Tetsurou didn't really want to talk about it. He still doesn't want to talk about it, even if it's with Kenma. No, e _specially_  if it's with Kenma. "For a shrimp, he's got a big mouth, huh?" Tetsurou says, with a chuckle that might have come out more bitter than he intended. Still, if Kenma realizes that Tetsurou doesn't want to talk about it, he probably won't push.

For a moment, neither of them speak, and Tetsurou keeps his smile on as he looks at Kenma, who's still staring at his PFP, even if Tetsurou thinks it's been a while since he pressed any of the buttons. He tries to come up with something else to say, to break the silence and change the subject, when Kenma looks up at him and Tetsurou is distracted by the amber in his eyes.

"You didn't say anything," Tetsurou hears somewhere in the back of his mind, and then he processes it, and-

Tetsurou didn't realize that Kenma... cared. Or... Tetsurou knows Kenma cares about him, that they've been best friends for years, but about this specifically, about his relationship with Tsukishima... The only reason he told Kenma about it, when he was at his house, checking on him late at night, was because Kenma only nodded occasionally while he spoke, not once turning away from the screen. There were times he gave Tetsurou advice, but he thought Kenma was thinking of it clinically, like a video game. He didn't think once that Kenma was seriously considering the things he said, but... The whole time, Kenma was listening.

Even if common sense tends to leave him late at night, Tetsurou should never have said anything.

"He thought he was in love with me, but he wasn't," Tetsurou finally starts to say, trying to figure out how to give Kenma enough information that he's satisfied but not enough that he knows everything. "It's fine, I'm not... upset. It was the same for me, too." Tetsurou turns to look Kenma in the eye, and they pierce. 

Kenma's arms are in his lap and his PFP is sitting in his lap, forgotten. The only thing hyper-perceptive Kenma is focused on right now is Tetsurou, and Tetsurou  _knows_  then, that he doesn't really believe what he's saying. That he can remember the nights Tetsurou confided in him, the nights Tetsurou spoke to him just to find some way to keep his relationship intact. Because the truth is, even if Tetsurou never loved Tsukishima, even if they're still friends, going from from having someone to having no one is... a difficult transition to make. Being alone, it... isn't easy.

But he's had ages to get used to it. He and Tsukishima broke up weeks ago, and he knew it was coming even while they were together. Plus, he's in love with Kenma, and he spends all this time with him. A dull ache on top of another dull ache... It isn't that much more of a problem.

"We're still friends, Kenma," Tetsurou finally says, trying to find some way to reassure him, "and even if we weren't, I'd still have you, wouldn't I?" Tetsurou smiles at Kenma in a way that he hopes comes across as mischievous rather than broken, and then- 

Kenma's cheeks flush the lightest shade of pink, and he's suddenly refusing to make eye contact, but he nods, and-

Tetsurou thinks about it, thinks about how even if Kenma's gotten used to having Tetsurou vent to him, he's never been good at conversations like these, definitely never been good at confrontation, but he still... did it. To make sure Tetsurou was alright.

Maybe he imagined it, the color across Kenma's face and the embarrassment in his eyes, but for a second, Tetsurou wonders if he has more than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit (1/31/18): i have since been informed that kozume is kenma's last name and kenma canonically calls kuroo a nickname akin to "tsukki." if you didn't know that - isn't that crazy? if you knew that - i am incredibly sorry you had to read that haha. it must have just been.... Extremely Wrong. anyway, this fic is an au now where at the age of five, hinata accidentally stepped on a butterfly that he did not in canon. Don't Fuckin Worry About It My Dude ;)
> 
> \----
> 
> hey! okay, uh. sorry this took so long. semester murdered me, several times over. also, i am _so_ sorry i didn't warn for kuroken. the tsukiyama and kuroken fandoms have a ton of overlap, and i was concerned about spoilers, but i still should have tagged it. if it caught you off guard, i am so sorry my dude.
> 
> the next thing might take a while. i have a couple other tsukiyama stories to get out before winter break ends, and even though this is definitely on that list, i am.... Slow. hopefully this keeps you guys satisfied for now!
> 
> i really do hope you enjoyed it! wanted to give kuroo a slightly happier ending, not quite sure i achieved that, but he really does deserve the best. i'd appreciate if you could leave feedback! you can hit me up on [tumblr](https://inspireigen.tumblr.com), too, if you want. thanks so much for reading, and thanks for staying with me this far.


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